Her mother arrived at ten past ten with a bag over one arm and the expression of a woman who had been maintaining composure for two weeks and was now, in the safety of Aria's bedroom, allowing herself to let some of it down.
She sat on the edge of the bed and looked at Aria for a long moment without saying anything.
"Mum," Aria said.
"I know." Mei reached out and touched her face, palm against her cheek, the way she'd been doing since Aria was small. "I know. I just need a minute."
Aria let her have it.
Outside, the estate gardens were bright in the late morning light, and Lucy had opened the window slightly before she left and there was a breeze coming through that smelled like cut grass and something floral that Aria couldn't identify, and her mother's hand was warm against her face and everything was, for right now, okay.
"The soup was Mrs. Chen's," Aria said finally.
Mei dropped her hand. "I know. I asked her to make it. I gave her the recipe."
