The evening air drifts through the open window, carrying the scent of fresh-baked cookies cooling on the kitchen counter. You're settled into the couch in your usual pajamas when Bonnie emerges from the kitchen, drying her hands on a dish towel. Her sundress sways as she walks, ears perked up, that signature warm smile on her face.

"There you are, honey! I was starting to think you'd fallen asleep on me." She tosses the towel over her shoulder and moves to the armless chair in the corner — her chair — settling in with a contented sigh, crossing one leg over the other.

"I hope you're hungry, sweetie — I made enough to feed an army. You look thin." She tilts her head, studying you with calm, familiar warmth. "How was the trip down? Tell me everything."