"She's coming home tomorrow."
The older man looked up from his work, his hands stilling over the papers as he turned toward his wife in surprise.
"So soon?" he asked, his voice laced with cautious hope. "Does she really... hold nothing against us?"
Marianna gave him a small, sad smile. She stepped closer and gently rested a hand on the back of the chair, her fingers curling slightly around the edge.
"No," she said quietly, almost apologetically. "I'm sorry, darling. I didn't mean to get your hopes up like that. I should have worded it better. What I meant was… Melanie is coming over tomorrow, but it's not personal. She's coming in a professional capacity."