The morning felt off before I even opened my eyes. The house seemed too quiet, like it was holding its breath. I dragged myself out of bed, shuffling down the stairs in my pajamas, trying to shake the heaviness that seemed to cling to the air.

As I reached the bottom of the stairs, I froze. Mom was in the living room, folding clothes into a suitcase. The sight of her moving in such a mechanical way made my chest tighten. She looked up when she saw me, her smile warm but brittle, like it was barely holding together. "Hey, sweetheart," she said, smoothing out the fabric of a blouse. "Your dad and I... we're taking a little break."

I didn't need her to say more. The words hit me like a dull thud, the truth settling in with a weight I wasn't sure how to carry. A break. A "break" wasn't what it was—this was the end. I could see it in her eyes, the way she couldn't even meet my gaze for long, as if saying it out loud made it too real.

Her fingers faltered as she folded the shirt. "Liz," she started, her voice quieter now, raw with something I couldn't name. "Your dad and I have decided to get a divorce."

I should've felt something more than the strange numbness that washed over me. Anger, sadness, maybe even relief. But it was almost like the word had been hanging in the air for a while, and now, it was just a matter of saying it aloud. The pieces had been in place for a long time. I knew this.

"I... I don't know what to say," I admitted, my throat tight. I didn't feel angry, just tired. "It's not a surprise, really." The words tasted bitter, but they were true. It was like watching a slow burn you knew would happen. But hearing it said out loud made the fire feel real.

Mom blinked, as if my honesty had caught her off guard. Her eyes were tired—almost empty. "I've been tired for a long time, Liz. Tired of pretending like everything's okay when it hasn't been for years." Her voice cracked, just a little, as she sighed. "I'm losing myself in all of this, trying to make something work that hasn't worked in ages."

I swallowed hard, the weight of her words sinking in deeper than I expected. "I'm sorry I yelled last night," I muttered, not knowing what else to say. I hadn't meant to snap, but something about the fight had broken me open.

She shook her head, a small, dry laugh escaping her. "It's okay. Honestly, I'm surprised it took you this long to say something."

I shrugged, unsure how to explain. It wasn't like I had been avoiding the truth. It was more like I hadn't known how to say it without making things worse. "It just felt like... the right time," I said, my words feeling clumsy.

Mom studied me for a long moment, her brow furrowing as if something was clicking into place. "If I'd known you understood all of this sooner... maybe I would've opened my eyes earlier."

I looked away, unsure of how to process that. But before I could say anything, she let out a soft chuckle. "Those dolls are creepy, huh?" She gestured toward the porcelain figures that lined the shelves, their glassy eyes staring at us. They'd always been too much for me, too perfect in a way that felt... wrong.

I blinked in surprise. "Yeah, they are," I agreed, feeling a laugh bubble up despite the tension. I didn't think we needed to keep up the facade of the perfect family anymore, especially when none of us had ever really felt that way.

Mom sighed deeply, the sound carrying years of exhaustion. She walked over to the couch, folding the shirt she'd been holding with slow, deliberate movements. "I just wanted you to fit in here, Liz. I wanted everything to be... normal."

I looked at her, a little taken aback by the weight of her words. "You don't have to apologize for that."

She came over to me, pulling me into a hug, and for the first time in what felt like forever, I let myself relax in her arms. Her warmth wrapped around me, and I remembered what it was like to feel safe. To feel like a little kid again, if only for a moment. "I'm sorry too," I whispered, the words muffled against her shoulder. "I got scared when I thought Aunt Sevika wouldn't be around anymore."

Mom pulled back, holding me at arm's length as her hands rested on my shoulders. Her eyes searched mine for a moment, as though weighing my reaction, then her voice softened. "She won't be around, sweetheart," she said gently. "We're moving back to Zaun."

The words felt like a splash of cold water, shocking me into silence for a few seconds. My mind scrambled to catch up, my heart pounding in my chest. "Zaun?" I echoed, unsure if it was real or if I was just imagining it. I didn't have to ask to know what she meant—this wasn't just a visit; we were leaving Piltover for good. But still, the reality hit like a sudden storm.

She nodded, her eyes dimming for a moment before she looked at me again, as though to reassure herself too. "Yeah. I can't stay here, not with him anymore." She looked down, rubbing her hands together nervously. "It's time to go back to where I belong."

I swallowed, my head spinning in a mix of excitement and uncertainty. Zaun. I was going to live there? My voice came out quicker than I intended. "Wait, so—what was it like? Back there, I mean. When you and Sevika... you know, lived there?"

Mom's eyes brightened at the question, the ghost of a smile creeping up at the corner of her mouth. She sat down beside me, not bothering to finish folding the clothes in her lap. "Oh, we were hellraisers," she said with a chuckle, leaning in closer like she was about to tell me the best secret. "We got into so much trouble back then. I swear, Sevika was the one always dragging me into messes. She'd say 'Come on, it'll be fun,' and before I knew it, we'd be running from guards or getting into the most ridiculous situations."

I leaned forward, practically hanging on her every word. "What kind of stuff?"

Mom laughed softly, her eyes sparkling with the memory. "Well, one time, we decided to sneak into one of the warehouses down in the slums. It was supposed to be some big secret, full of stolen tech. Sevika was all for getting in and selling anything valuable we could find, but me? I was more interested in sneaking around, hoping we wouldn't get caught." She paused, her gaze distant for a moment as she relived the memory. "Anyway, we ended up tripping a whole trap, and we had to run for our lives."

I gasped, laughing at the image of Mom and Sevika—two girls running through the streets, dodging whatever trouble they'd stirred up. "You never told me about stuff like that," I said, my voice full of awe. "Didn't you ever get caught?"

Mom shook her head, laughing softly. "You know Sevika—she has a way of getting us out of sticky situations. Sometimes, I think I only survived because I was with her."

"Sounds like she's always had your back," I said, grinning. "I can't wait to see her again. I know I'm gonna love it in Zaun."

The excitement bubbled up in me like a wave, but underneath it all, a knot twisted in my stomach. What if things were different now? What if... I couldn't fit in?

Mom seemed to catch the slight shift in my expression, her own smile softening. She placed a hand on mine, squeezing it gently. "I know it's scary. But we'll make it work. We'll make a home, you'll see."

I smiled back, even though I didn't quite feel the ease she was trying to convey. "I know we will. I'm just... I don't know. Nervous too, I guess. But it's gonna be a new adventure, right?"

Mom chuckled and nodded, her eyes glistening as she gazed at me. "Exactly. And Zaun's got its own kind of magic. I've missed it. Missed the energy, the chaos. The way everything's always moving. I can't wait for you to see it, Liz. You'll love it." Her voice was tinged with nostalgia, the excitement creeping back into her tone. "And there's people there I've missed. Old friends I can't wait for you to meet."

As I helped tape up boxes and sort through what we'd take, a flicker of hope sparked in me. Moving back to Zaun meant I could be closer to Vi and Powder. If I could stop Vi from robbing that house, maybe—just maybe—I could stop everything else from unraveling.

It was a slim chance, but it was something. And right now, something was all I had.

The house we found in Zaun was small but sturdy, perched on the edge of a narrow street lined with other equally haphazard-looking buildings. It wasn't much to look at, with its chipped paint and crooked shutters, but it felt like it belonged to us. It helped that Aunt Sevika was practically next door.

Sevika arrived just as we finished hauling the last of the boxes inside. She leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, smirking as she took in the chaos of half-unpacked boxes, mismatched furniture shoved into corners, and the faint smell of dust that lingered in the air. "You didn't wait for me to help move?" she teased, her voice carrying that rough edge of amusement. "What, didn't want me showing you how it's done?"

Mom glanced up from the couch she was shoving against the wall and smirked right back. "We managed. Barely." She wiped her hands on her jeans, clearly satisfied with her jab.

"Barely," Sevika echoed, shaking her head as she stepped further inside. Her eyes landed on me, and she gave me a wink. "Kid, you should've called. I could've brought Vander along to do the heavy lifting. Saved you some sweat."

I kicked at a stray box near my feet, feeling heat rise to my face. "I didn't think of it," I mumbled, suddenly very interested in the scuffed floor.

Sevika snorted, her grin widening. Without another word, she grabbed one of the heavier boxes, hoisting it with ease and carrying it into the kitchen like it weighed nothing. "Next time, call me. Or better yet, call Vander. He needs the exercise."

As we unpacked, a rhythm began to form. It was strange, almost surreal, how naturally we fell into it. For the first time in what felt like forever, Mom actually seemed… at ease. She moved around the kitchen with Sevika like they'd never been apart, laughing and reminiscing as they sorted through dishes, utensils, and whatever odds and ends Mom had decided were worth hauling here.

"Remember the time you broke into old man Leto's shop?" Sevika said, her grin sharp and mischievous as she handed Mom a precarious stack of mismatched plates.

Mom snorted, rolling her eyes as she grabbed the plates and started stacking them in the cupboard. "Oh, please. You were the one who thought it'd be a great idea to take a shortcut through his workshop. I just happened to be with you when he caught us."

"Yeah, and you screamed so loud he probably still has nightmares," Sevika countered, laughing as she pulled another item from the box—a small tin of spices.

"I screamed because you knocked over that shelf full of clock parts," Mom retorted, smirking as she placed a chipped teacup on a shelf. "I thought the whole building was going to come down."

"You know," Sevika said, leaning casually against the counter, "if you'd actually helped instead of running out the door like a scared chicken—"

"—I wouldn't have been able to sweet-talk Leto into letting us go," Mom interrupted smoothly, arching a brow at her.

"Sweet-talk? That's what you call bawling and apologizing until he felt sorry for us?" Sevika shot back, her grin widening.

I couldn't hold back a laugh, and Mom threw me a mock glare. "Don't encourage her," she said, though there was no real bite to her words.

Sevika bent down, fishing something out of the bottom of the box, and when she straightened, her expression was pure confusion. "What in the hell is this?"

She held up a shiny metal contraption, its purpose far from obvious. It had a long handle, some kind of rotating mechanism, and a weirdly shaped top with prongs sticking out of it.

I burst out laughing, covering my mouth with my hands as Sevika turned it over like it might bite her. "It's… it's a cheese grater," I finally managed to say, wiping tears from my eyes.

"A what now?" Sevika said, deadpan, holding the thing up like it was some kind of exotic weapon.

"A cheese grater!" I repeated, grinning so hard my cheeks hurt. "You know, for grating cheese?"

She stared at me, then at the grater, her expression one of complete and utter disbelief. "Who the hell grates cheese? Just eat the damn block."

Mom, laughing so hard she had to lean against the counter for support, added, "That's what I told her, but she insisted we bring it."

I shrugged, still grinning. "It makes the cheese fluffier. You wouldn't understand."

"Fluffier? It's cheese, not a damn pillow," Sevika said, shaking her head as she tossed the grater onto the counter. "Leave it to Piltover to invent something that complicated for no reason."

"Well," I said, picking up the grater and waving it in her direction, "next time you want perfect, fluffy cheese on your sandwich, don't come crying to me."

Sevika smirked, crossing her arms as she leaned against the counter. "I'll survive."

The three of us dissolved into laughter again, the sound filling the small kitchen. It was easy, effortless, like slipping into a memory that hadn't yet been made. For once, it felt like things were okay—better than okay, even.

As the unpacking continued, I caught myself stealing glances at Sevika and Mom, watching how they moved around each other with a familiarity that felt both comforting and bittersweet. It was a moment I wanted to hold onto, a reminder that even in this mess of a world, there were still pieces that fit.

Mom turned to me with a sly grin, mischief sparkling in her eyes. "So, I hear you've been hanging around the Last Drop quite a bit."

My stomach sank. My mouth went dry. "Uh, what? It was only like twice."

Mom raised an eyebrow, leaning casually against the counter like she was savoring every second of my discomfort. "Oh, don't act so innocent. Sevika told me all about your little friends."

My face burned so hot it might've been visible from across the Lanes. I whipped my head toward Sevika, betrayal written all over my face. "You told her?"

Sevika didn't even flinch. In fact, her grin widened, practically splitting her face. "Of course I did. What, you thought you could keep secrets from your mom?"

"Ugh!" I groaned, throwing my hands in the air. "This is so embarrassing."

Mom chimed in, her voice dripping with fake concern. "Oh, honey, it's okay to have friends. I mean, it's a little shocking considering how much time you spend hiding in your room, but we're so proud of you."

"Stop!" I groaned, slapping my hands over my face. "This is not happening right now."

Mom leaned against the counter, her smirk turning downright predatory. "Oh, it's happening, kid. Tell you what—next time you're at the Last Drop, I'll swing by. You can introduce me to these friends of yours." She added finger quotes around the word "friends," just to twist the knife.

I groaned louder, pulling my hoodie over my head like a turtle retreating into its shell. "This is a nightmare."

Mom wasn't done, though. She leaned down, ruffling my hood-covered hair with one heavy hand. "Come on, sweetheart. I'm just happy you're making connections. Maybe Sevika and I can help you out, you know, give you some advice on socializing."

I peeked out from under the hoodie, glaring at them both. "Oh yeah? What kind of advice? How to intimidate people into submission? Or maybe how to win an arm-wrestling contest?"

Sevika snorted, clapping a hand on my shoulder. "Don't knock it till you try it, kid. But seriously, you're doing fine. You've even got your mom bragging about you to me."

"Really?" I deadpanned, raising an eyebrow at Mom.

"Oh, absolutely," Mom said, her tone mock serious. "She's a natural storyteller. 'My kid, the social butterfly of Piltover.'"

"Alright, that's enough!" I snapped, waving my hands in mock surrender. "Can we talk about literally anything else?"

"Oh, sure," Mom said, her grin turning wicked. "How about how I'm going back to waitressing at the Last Drop?"

That yanked me out of my hoodie shell. "Wait, what? You're working there?"

Mom shrugged, as casual as could be. "Vander offered me a job. Said he could use the help now that business is picking up. And honestly? It'll give me a chance to keep an eye on you."

My jaw dropped. "This is some kind of punishment, isn't it?"

"Punishment?" Mom laughed, glancing at Sevika like she couldn't believe what she was hearing. "No, sweetheart. This is just how life works. Besides, if I wanted to punish you, I'd volunteer Sevika to walk you everywhere."

Sevika nodded, her grin sharp. "That's not a bad idea. I could carry your books, too. Want me to braid your hair while I'm at it?"

I buried my face in my hands, groaning so loud it probably echoed outside. "I'm never leaving the house again."

"Oh, come on," Sevika said, slinging an arm around my shoulders. "You'll survive. Who knows? You might even have fun."

I peeked up at her, my face still burning. "Doubtful."

Mom laughed, her eyes softening as she looked at me. "Relax, love. We're just teasing. I'm glad you're finding your place here. That's all I've ever wanted for you."

As I looked at them—Mom laughing like she hadn't in years, Sevika with her unshakable confidence—I felt the tension melt away, replaced by something warm and grounding. Maybe this move wouldn't be so bad after all. Or maybe it would be absolute chaos. Either way, I didn't have much of a choice but to find out.