You know that feeling when the house finally goes quiet after years of noise, like a sudden drop in pressure? That's me now, kids gone, just me and… him, I guess. And then there’s my mom, calling me “dear” every morning, like she’s never met me, and I’m a new face in the library she used to run. It's not a big deal, like, people have it worse, but sometimes you just wanna scream "I'M YOUR DAUGHTER, CAROLINE, THE ONE WHO TEACHES HISTORY" but you don’t, you just smile and say "Good morning, Mom," again and again, and you wonder how many times humans can restart a conversation before something just… breaks.