By late morning the sky had folded itself into shades of gray again. Rain threaded down the windows in thin silver lines, the kind that promised to last all day.
Hannah had planned to read, maybe tidy the kitchen, anything to keep her thoughts from circling back to Emma. But when the knock came—a soft, uncertain rhythm—she knew who it was before she opened the door.
Emma stood on the porch, hood half-up, hair damp and curling. She held a paper bag and gave a small, apologetic smile. "I brought scones. And maybe too much coffee."
Hannah laughed despite herself. "You never need an excuse for coffee. Come in."
The house smelled of lemon soap and rain-wet air. Emma slipped off her boots, glancing around like she was afraid to touch anything. Hannah waved her toward the kitchen table. "It's just me here," she said. "No rules."
They sat, steam rising from their mugs, the sound of rain filling the pauses. The world outside blurred into gray; inside felt sharp and alive.
"This place suits you," Emma said after a while. "It's… calm."
"Mostly because no one else lives here," Hannah replied, smiling.
Emma tilted her head. "And you like it that way?"
Hannah traced the rim of her cup. "I used to. Lately, it feels a little too quiet."
Emma looked at her then, really looked, and something softened in her expression. "Quiet can be good," she said. "It gives you room to hear things you'd otherwise miss."
"Like what?"
Emma hesitated, then shrugged. "Yourself. Other people. The sound of rain that isn't just noise."
The words landed gently. Hannah felt them settle somewhere deep, steadying her. She hadn't realized how much she needed simple company—the kind that didn't demand anything except honesty.
They talked for hours, about nothing and everything—old teachers, music that made them cry, the way the sea smelled different in autumn. The kind of conversation that left no room for pretense.
When the rain eased near evening, Emma gathered her things. "Thank you," she said, voice soft. "For letting me in."
Hannah smiled, standing in the doorway as the gray light dimmed. "Anytime."
Emma nodded, a promise in her eyes. "Then maybe I will."
And as she walked down the path, the last drops of rain catching in her hair, Hannah realized the house no longer felt too quiet at all. It felt like waiting.