The call came while Elian was washing a mug.
He let it ring once before answering, tucking the phone between his shoulder and ear. "Hi, Mom."
"Hi," Evelyn said, her voice warm and unhurried. "Is this a bad time?"
Elian glanced at the counter—papers stacked neatly, the apartment quiet. "No. I was just finishing up."
"Good," she said. "I won't keep you long."
She never did.
They talked first about small things. The weather shifting. A plant in the garden that had finally taken. Lorian's schedule easing after a week of meetings. Evelyn asked about classes without probing, listening more than she spoke.
Then, gently, "How's Juni?"
Elian's hand stilled in the sink. "He's… adjusting," he said. "The art school is bigger than he expected."
"Mmm," Evelyn murmured. "Bigger spaces tend to feel louder at first."
Elian smiled faintly. "That sounds like something you used to tell your students."
She laughed softly. "Old habits."
There was a pause—not awkward, just intentional.
"Are you being patient with him?" she asked.
Elian leaned back against the counter. "I think so."
Evelyn didn't challenge the answer. She rarely did. Instead, she said, "Remember—Juni has always needed safety before certainty. He finds his footing when he knows he won't be rushed."
"I know," Elian replied quietly. "I'm trying not to… anticipate for him."
"That's good," she said. "And don't forget—you're adjusting too. Power has a way of making people expect clarity from you before you've had time to find it yourself."
Elian closed his eyes briefly. "Sometimes it feels like everyone's waiting for me to choose a version of myself."
"Then take your time," Evelyn said. "Anyone worth keeping will wait."
They sat in the quiet for a moment longer.
"Tell Juni he's always welcome here," she added. "Not as a guest. As himself."
"I will," Elian said, warmth settling in his chest.
After the call ended, Elian dried his hands and checked his phone.
Elian: My mom asked about you.
The reply came quickly.
Juni: That feels… intimidating and comforting at the same time.
Elian smiled.
Elian: She does that.
He set the phone down and looked around the apartment—temporary, imperfect, but steady.
Evelyn was right. Safety came first.
Everything else could wait.