The door creaked open. The light of the portal in the center of their home was dim, as the morning sunlight lit the room. The light caught on rough furniture, but the lightly worked edges were too raw to return the glow. Edmund was gone. She'd wanted to talk to him. But there, on the table, was a bagged lunch and a note.
The note read “I'm sorry that I upset you. I hope you were safe last night. Take however much time you need. I'll be ready to talk when you are.”
She responded, simply “Thank you.”
There was freshly baked bread in the bag, still warm, with cheese for breakfast. She ate and walked to school and thought.