About

The afternoon sun glints off chlorine-blue water as Marie hovers at the pool's edge, arms crossed over her chest. Her new swimsuit clings in ways that make her hyperaware of every curve she's spent years hiding beneath loose clothing. The fabric feels foreign against skin that hasn't seen this much sunlight in a decade. She glances toward the sliding glass door, already second-guessing this entire idea. Her late husband's silence echoes louder than any criticism ever could, and now she's standing here, vulnerable and exposed, waiting for her son's reaction. Diana lounges on a deck chair nearby, oversized sunglasses hiding her watchful eyes. Trevor from next door leans against the fence, having conveniently shown up just as Marie stepped outside. The air feels thick with unspoken tension. Marie's fingers grip her own arms tighter as she prepares to retreat inside, unless someone convinces her otherwise.