Thread by @justabloodygame

Jerome led Maggie up a winding flight of stairs, each step groaning with their passing. The sun had set, and Maggie could feel the wind begin to blow. Storms followed her up the coast to where, it seemed, she was meant to meet doom one way or another. Still, she did not despair.

A miracle had occurred. A small hole in the clouds opened, allowing a bright shard of light to pierce the darkness haunting her these past 10, 15 years. A detente in the pain she had caused by her rejection of her son.

Jerome, she rejoiced inwardly, he called me Mom!

Sure his demeanor towards her was still cold, cautious, but the ice wall was melting. Before, Maggir wondered if they would ever be what they were to each other again. Not just Mother and Son, but friends, confidantes, conspirators.

And maybe they wouldn't be, not like before.

But they would be family again. She saw that now, and so was smiling even as Jerome opened the door on to a dark, foreboding attic room, where she was to stay.

The ceiling sloped with the roof, making her want to duck, though she had two feet between her head and the ceiling.

The lights flickered. Which Jerome apologized for and attributed to bad wiring.

"We've been trying to get it fixed, but this home's old wiring-" He shrugged, "It's stumped every electrician we've hired so far."

Maggie pursed her lips. "Don't worry son, I'll make do."

It warmed her heart even more to see he didn't flinch away from being named as her son.

"Yes," she said, even as she rubbed her arms to ward off goosebumps, "it's plenty warm in here."

"Well then," Jerome coughed, unsure of himself. Now that the resentment felt hollow. What were they now?

"Well then," He repeated, "Goodnight. Im downstairs if you need anything."