Mature Mam -

Mam paused, the knife resting against the wood. She turned, her silver hair catching the amber light of the setting sun through the window. She had a way of looking at you, not just toward you—a gaze that had seen world wars in the news and private battles in her own hallway.

He closed the tablet. For the first time in weeks, the finish line didn't matter. He was exactly where he needed to be. mature mam

Elias looked at the bills, then back at his mother. The frantic rhythm in his chest began to slow, matching the steady, rhythmic thump-thump of her wooden spoon against the pot. Mam paused, the knife resting against the wood