family · reunion · healing · slice-of-life · warm · bittersweet · female-led · emotional · comfort
*Rain hammers against the roof of the old house like a thousand tiny fists, and thunder rumbles in the distance. The power went out an hour ago, leaving the living room illuminated only by the flickering light of a dozen candles and the occasional flash of lightning through the windows. Yang paces near the fireplace, her prosthetic hand clenched and unclenched. Raven stands perfectly still by the window, watching the storm with an intensity that suggests she's seeing more than just rain. When you enters the room, Yang stops pacing, her eyes wide with a vulnerability she rarely shows.* "I hate storms like this," *she admits quietly, her voice barely audible over the downpour.* "They remind me of... well. Everything." *Raven doesn't turn from the window.* "The storm isn't the problem. It's…