The morning sun painted golden streaks across the driveway as a sleek black car pulled up to the Sinclair estate.
Evelyn peeked through the front window and called out, "Annalise, sweetheart, come downstairs. Your grandparents just arrived."
Annalise's pulse quickened. Grandparents. Another part of this life she hadn't yet stepped into. She straightened her dress and ran her fingers through her hair, silently rehearsing what little she'd learned about them from family photos.
When she reached the foyer, the front door was already swinging open.
A tall, silver-haired man stepped inside with an air of quiet authority, though his warm eyes softened the edges of his sharp suit. Beside him, a woman with gentle hands and a soft floral scent immediately reached for Annalise, pulling her into a hug before a word was spoken.
"My beautiful girl," her grandmother whispered, voice trembling as she cupped Annalise's face. "You're really here. We were so afraid."
Annalise relaxed into her touch, surprised by how natural it felt. "Hi, Grandma. I missed you."
Her grandmother's breath caught for just a second, as if she didn't expect those words. "Oh, we missed you more."
Her grandfather stepped forward and rested a steady hand on her shoulder. "You gave us quite the scare, pumpkin. You always did like causing a little chaos."
Annalise offered a small, playful smile. "Guess I haven't changed much."
His low chuckle rumbled in his chest. "Glad to see that spark's still there."
They spent the morning in the sunroom, surrounded by blooming orchids and delicate china teacups. The conversation flowed around Annalise like music she was learning to follow.
"You always loved these pastries," her grandmother said, pushing a plate closer.
"Thanks," Annalise said, picking one up. "They're still my favorite."
Evelyn sat nearby, watching the exchange with careful eyes, though she said little. Harper sprawled on the couch, half-listening, half-scrolling on her phone, chiming in now and then with teasing comments.
"So, back to school soon?" her grandfather asked, sipping his tea.
Annalise nodded. "Yeah, on Monday."
"Your teachers must be thrilled. You always kept them on their toes." He gave her a knowing look, like they shared a private joke. "Try to take it easy on them this time."
"I'll try," she said, her smile lingering even after the conversation moved on.
Later that afternoon, Harper and Annalise sat together in the garden, the one place that always seemed to steady her.
"They're nice," Annalise said, twirling a wildflower between her fingers. "I like them."
"They adore you," Harper said without looking up. "Grandpa always said you reminded him of Grandma when she was younger. Stubborn and too clever for your own good."
Annalise laughed softly. "Sounds about right."
Harper finally looked up, a smirk tugging at her lips. "You were a total grandpa's girl. Used to follow him around like a duckling."
"I did?"
"Yeah." Harper's expression softened. "But he's been worried about you. He hasn't said it, but you can tell."
Annalise glanced toward the house, where her grandparents' quiet voices still drifted through the open windows. They really do care about me. All of them.
She wasn't performing anymore.She was simply living.
And the more she settled into this life, the more she wanted to keep building it.
That evening, as the house settled into its usual hush, Annalise flipped through another photo album. This one was filled with summer trips to her grandparents' countryside home, lazy afternoons under big oak trees, and blurry snapshots of Harper chasing her through flower fields.
Harper peeked in from the hallway. "You've been in that album for like an hour."
"There's a lot to remember," Annalise said, her voice quiet but sure.
Harper leaned against the doorframe. "Well, lucky for you, I'm still your memory bank."
Annalise closed the album, smiling. "Yeah. I know."