little bird // r.keene

xxx. walking back in.

"Mom?" Wren asked, hardly believing her own eyes as she stared at her mother.

She hadn't grown. That's as the first thing Wren noticed, in fact she had hardly changed at all. Caroline Evans had her hair cut to the same length when Wren had last seen her- just above the shoulder. She wore the same coat which fell to her knees in a formal style. And she wore the same smile that used to bring her so much comfort when she was a child.

But now, looking at that same smile. It didn't make her feel like it used to.

"Hi, honey." Caroline smiled, taking a step towards Wren, closing the gap between them, Wren still clutching her keys in her right hand. "Look how you've grown..." She held out her arms, as if waiting for an embrace but it never arrived. Wren just stared at her, her brows drawn together as she studied the woman before her and couldn't bring herself to move.

"Hey mom." Wren said flatly, to anyone else it might have seemed crazy. It made sense to smile, run into her mom's arms. Maybe even get choked up, Wren hadn't spoken to her mother in almost a year. "How long have you been back?" Wren found herself asking, though she didn't quite feel like herself when she spoke.

It seemed hostile, and Wren meant it to be. Of course she had missed her mom, anyone would. They had been close when they were moving around after Rue died. Well, close enough, her mother had always prioritised work above anything else and yet; looking at her now, clean, put together, well rested. She didn't look like she had just gotten off a plane.

Her mother lowered her arms, glancing at her feet before fixing them on her daughter once more. "A week or two." She answered and Wren's shoulders fell, she bit her lip.

"So, which is it? A week or two?" She found herself saying, Wren watched as her mother's expression became blank as she processed Wren's tone. Cold and resentful. "Stop that," Wren said, meaning her mother's hurt expression, "it's been practically a year since I saw you last and my last message to you was the text I sent you that day I arrived." Wren told her. "Did you even read it?"

Her mom turned away, facing the road and scanning the sidewalk- there was hardly anyone around. When she turned back to Wren, she almost looked bored, or maybe disappointed, Wren wasn't sure.

"Well, that's one way to greet me I suppose." Her mother sighed, brushing a piece of hair from her face in a dismissive manner, "Nice to see you too." She sighed.

Wren snapped, "What the fuck, mom?" Wren paused before taking a few steps closer until they were only a metre apart, her mother said nothing, "A year." Wren said coldly. "No text, calls, emails, letters and you turn up at my doorstep expecting me to be, what, welcoming?"
"You know I'm a busy person, I'm sorry that I never got around to contacting you but-"

"Busy?"

"Yes, I know you can look after yourself Wren, you've always been able to do that. Besides, you're okay. Look at you." Her mother smiled, trying to reach out but Wren stepped away. Maybe it wasn't all her mom's fault. Sure, there was a small part of Wren that was happy to see her mom but all her pent up frustration and anger- it was too much.

"No. You have no idea what's been happening here!" She snapped once more, holding out an arm as if to steady herself, waving it towards The Bookshelf.

"I actually do." Her mother replied flatly, any sense of sentiment had long since dissolved. Wren cocked her head.

"I'm a journalist Wren, I might have been away but I still watched the news here. You don't think I saw what happened at the school? The fight? I know you saved that boy." Wren felt a dry laugh expel itself from her body. "I know that he's alive because of you."