The next morning…
Sofia found Jay in the back garden.
Jay was sitting on the low stone bench, phone in her hand, smiling at something Keifer had just sent her.
Sofia watched her for a moment.
Not as an aunt.
As a woman who had lost a family once… and had just found it again.
"Jay, dear…"
Jay looked up immediately.
"Yes, Aunty Sofia?"
Sofia sat beside her.
"You make this house warmer," she said quietly.
"For everyone."
Jay smiled, a little shy.
"I just… like being here."
Sofia nodded.
"I can see how my brother and sister found a daughter in you."
Jay blinked.
A soft warmth spread through her eyes.
Sofia gently covered Jay's hand with hers.
"And Keifer…"
She smiled faintly.
"He looks at you the way men rarely look at someone twice in a lifetime."
Jay's cheeks heated.
Before she could answer, Sofia stood up.
"I only wanted to say this."
Jay watched her walk away, confused but smiling.
—
Later that afternoon…
Sofia stood in front of the mirror in her room.
Kia leaned against the doorframe.
"Mama… did you talk to Jay today?"
Sofia didn't deny it.
"Yes."
Kia's chest tightened.
"And…?"
Sofia turned around slowly.
Her voice was calm.
But firm.
"Kia."
She walked closer.
"I will not stand against this family again."
Kia stiffened.
"This isn't about the family. It's about me."
Sofia shook her head gently.
"No. It is about you choosing what kind of woman you become."
Kia's eyes filled.
"Mama, I love him."
Sofia looked straight at her.
"I know."
A pause.
Then—
"You cannot have Keifer."
Kia's breath hitched.
Sofia didn't raise her voice.
Didn't soften it either.
"Not now."
One step closer.
"Not later."
Another.
"Not ever."
Kia whispered,
"Why…?"
Sofia answered without hesitation.
"Because he already belongs to someone."
Silence.
Sofia reached out and held Kia's shoulders.
Not cold.
Not cruel.
But unmovable.
"And because wanting what is not yours…
will only teach you to hurt yourself."
Kia broke into quiet sobs.
Sofia pulled her into her arms.
And this time, when she held her daughter—
She held her firmly enough to stop her from crossing a line she could never uncross.