Lina’s cheeks dimpled. “Over two decades this tree has grown into what it is today.” Lina craned her neck up to the domed roof high above the canopy of leaves. Star shapes cut into the ceiling, making holes to let in beams of moonlight. “I thought it would be bursting through the roof before I would be wearing her crown.” Lina’s voice wobbled and she swallowed back that betraying sound. “I thought I’d be planting the seeds of my own children long before I took her place.”

Bri leaned closer, lifting her arm to wrap around Lina’s shoulders. Lina was soft and warm against Bri’s side. She thought Lina might pull away, or go still as she had with Tem, but instead she leaned into Bri’s touch ever so slightly. The contact seemed to make Lina’s eyes well.

“My mother and I didn’t get along. At most, we respected each other,” Lina said. “This idea that she would have ever been a doting grandmother is ridiculous but . . .” A thick tear slid down her cheek. “She will never get to meet my children.” Lina pressed her lips tightly together as if to stop the tears spilling from her eyes. “Sorry.”

Bri squeezed Lina’s shoulder as if she could absorb her pain. It made her ache to see such a strong person so broken down. “You farewelled your mother today,” she whispered. “It’s okay to mourn her.”

“I thought I had mourned her in every way and then a new kind of sorrow pops into my mind . . . ,” Lina whispered as if trying to keep her voice from cracking. “And I know—I know I’m mourning a future that would have never been.”

Bri pulled her in tighter, letting Lina’s soft curves mold into her side. “I know what it is to mourn the relationships you know you’ll never have.” She reached up with her thumb and gingerly wiped the tear trailing down Lina’s cheek. “You’re not just mourning her loss; you’re mourning the hope that it could have ever been different between you two.”

Lina sniffed, wiping her eyes with her knuckles. “Yes.”

It was the simplest word, and yet, it meant more than any other: Yes, she understood. Yes, she saw her pain. Yes, she was the same.

“I don’t normally cry,” Lina muttered.

“Nothing about your life right now is normal,” Bri said, placing her lips atop Lina’s head and speaking into the soft fabric of her scarf. “The world right now is a giant unknown.”

“If only the people knew what we were doing right now.” Lina let out a half-hearted chuckle. “Me crying and you comforting me.”

“It would make it very hard for the people to pick sides if we were friends.”

“Your mother would be furious,” Lina said, resting her head on Bri’s shoulder.