~**(Third Person)**~
The balcony overlooked the back gardens, veiled in a wash of soft golden light from the setting sun.
Margareth sat there, upright and still, a porcelain cup of flower tea nestled between her palms. Steam curled from its surface, but she didn't sip.
Her gaze was distant, unfocused—like it had wandered somewhere too far to call back.
She didn't hear the sliding door open behind her.
Didn't notice her daughters until they were nearly at her side.
Monique raised a brow and glanced at Mabel.
"She's lost again," Mabel whispered, folding her arms.
Monique stepped forward and reached out, tapping their mother's shoulder.
Margareth jolted faintly. Her eyes flicked to them as she slowly placed her tea down on the side table. "When did you girls get here?"
"Just now," Monique said, lowering herself into one of the wicker chairs beside her. "You were staring into the wind again."
Mabel dropped into the other seat and crossed her legs. "Is it Meredith again?"
