All of it destroyed. Broken. Lost.
She walked forward carefully, stepping over rubble and debris as she ventured deeper into the ruins. Aether remained behind with Arthur, instinctively understanding this moment required space.
Charlotte's hand traced along a partially standing wall, her fingers finding familiar marks—height measurements their parents had made when she and Arthur were children, tracking their growth year by year. The marks were still visible despite the damage, faded pencil lines with dates written beside them.
"Arthur was always taller," Charlotte whispered, her voice carrying across the quiet destruction. "I remember being so frustrated about that. Mom said I'd catch up eventually, but I never did."
She moved to what had been the dining room, now open to the sky. The table was gone, either looted or destroyed, but Charlotte stood where it would have been.
