In the backyard, the younger women were organizing the children. Zeeta, Layka, and Laida had begun washing their dirty clothes and gently guiding little hands to help where they could. Children tugged baskets of laundry, fetched small pails of water, and chased chickens that had wandered ourside their pen.
Yohana clutched a ragdoll in one hand and trailed after her mother, asking endless questions.
"What will Father do when he gets here?"
"Can he sleep next to me?"
"Will he like the fountain at the entrance?"
Zeeta tried to answer them all, her heart tightening with every "when" instead of "if." But her smile never faltered, and her voice was always calm.
At one point, Lara found her kneeling near the vegetable beds, pulling weeds. She looked up as Lara approached.
"I need to keep busy," Zeeta said, wiping her hands on her skirt. "If I sit too long, I start to worry."
"You're not alone in that," Lara replied. She knelt beside her, working in silence for a while.
