"Who… am I to you?"
The question trembled out of Lily like a thread pulled loose, and the entire room seemed to hold its breath. No one moved. No one dared.
Melissa's lips parted first, but no sound came out. Her eyes flicked toward her mother, tense and uncertain.
Margaret's wrinkled hands tightened in her lap. Henry straightened where he stood, arms no longer crossed, gaze sharp and unreadable.
Finally, Melissa exhaled shakily. "Lily," she said gently, "you should rest. Please. You've been through so much. We can explain everything later."
"No." Lily shook her head immediately, breath stuttering. "No, not later. I want to know now."
Melissa tried again, softer. "Sweetheart… your body is under stress. You fainted twice. Just rest—"
"No!" Lily snapped, chest tightening until it hurt. "Stop telling me to rest. Tell me what's going on."
Henry's eyes darkened, watching her carefully, as if expecting the ground to break beneath her feet.
