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Josephine carefully inscribes her name onto the letter destined for Alora and Karina before delicately folding it and entrusting it to Nyla's owl.
With a gentle stroke, she rewards the owl with a small treat before watching it gracefully take flight through the window.
The contents of the letter assure them of her well-being and safety, explaining that she has found her aunt and will be staying with her for the time being.
As she glances down at her hands, a pang of concern for Regulus grips her heart.
Though aware that communication from her friends is impossible, each passing day without a letter intensifies her worry.
A sudden knock interrupts her thoughts, causing Josie to startle. "Come in," she calls out, her voice betraying a hint of apprehension.
The door creaks open, revealing her aunt's gentle smile as she enters the room.
"I want to ask you something," her aunt begins, her tone tinged with uncertainty.
Josephine arches an eyebrow, noticing the subtle signs of nervousness in Nyla's demeanor.
"I wonder if you would like to visit your parents' graves," her aunt continues, her words causing Josie's heart to skip a beat, her throat tightening with emotion.
Externally, Josephine maintains her composure, though a subtle tensing betrays her inner turmoil.
But internally?
Her throat constricts, gripped by the weight of her own guilt, tightening like a vice around her mind and voice.
"I would like that," Josephine manages, mustering a small, melancholic smile.
Nyla returns the smile. "Shall we go in an hour?"
"Sure," she replies softly.
With a nod, Nyla exits the room, leaving Josephine alone with her thoughts.
As soon as the door clicks shut, Josie pleads with herself to hold back the tears, to maintain her facade of strength and perfection.
Yet, despite her efforts, a half-suppressed sob escapes her lips, tears welling in her eyes.
In that moment, Josephine yearns for someone to envelop her in comforting arms, to offer solace and care.
~~~
Josephine requested to stop by a flower shop before they apparate to England to visit the graves.
Nyla agreed, and now Josie finds herself standing amidst rows of vibrant blooms.
"I don't even know my mother's favorite flower," she murmurs, the words slipping out unintentionally.
Nyla's gaze doesn't meet hers, but a flicker of sadness shadows her eyes.
