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Lirael's POV

I pull up outside Zephyra's mom's house and shift the car into park. The decision to rent a vehicle instead of relying on a driver feels like a small step toward independence, a gesture of my commitment to staying here for the foreseeable future. The sunset paints the sky in hues of orange and pink, casting warm beams of light through the car window as I sit and contemplate my next moves.

Recalibration is necessary. The impulse to buy things for Zephyra's mom, while well-intentioned, feels like a misstep now. She doesn't need my money; she needs genuine connection and support. It strikes me that perhaps my efforts to provide material comfort were more about easing my own guilt than truly helping. Zephyra, given time and opportunity, will undoubtedly be able to provide for her mom in ways I can't.

Yet, despite this realization, I haven't formulated another plan. Every idea I entertain seems to circle back to money, a reminder of the limitations of my solutions. For now, al