Mira nodded. “Not everything. Enough.”

, such as their midnight confession or the morning after the Supermoon?

In our house, the days were loud. Toddlers screaming, Zoom calls blaring, dishes piling up. The day-version of my mother-in-law was in "survival mode," marching through the schedule with military precision. There was no time for feelings; there was only time for tasks.

“My mother-in-law ignores me all day. She acts like I’m a servant. But at 10 PM, when the house is quiet and the moon is full, she knocks on my door to tell me stories about her own mother-in-law who made her cry in 1987. I don’t understand her.”