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Back Home After All These Years

It’s been years since I left. After Mom died, Emery and I packed bags and disappeared. We didn’t know where we were going—we just knew we couldn’t stay. We traveled, played music, met people who didn’t know our history. It gave us space to breathe and figure out who we were without her.

Now we’re home. Ezra’s been back for a couple years, taking care of the house. Zeke and Sapphira are here too. Aunt Evie’s back. And Jerrica—she never left. She’s been holding it down in London this whole time, keeping the threads intact while the rest of us unraveled and rewound. Seeing her again felt grounding, like stepping into a room that still remembers you.

The house still smells like Mom’s favorite candles. Her records are untouched. Her notes are still on the fridge. It’s strange and comforting all at once.

I’m reconnecting, writing again, trying to live more honestly. London hasn’t changed much, but I have. I say what I mean. I don’t wait.

If you’ve been holding back, I get it. But maybe it’s time. Come home, however you define it.

—Electra