Elena sat on the worn-out couch, clutching a faded picture of her daughters. Her eyes, filled with a decade’s worth of tears, stared blankly at the wall. The silence of the room was broken only by the ticking of the old grandfather clock. Her heart ached with the absence of laughter and the memories of bedtime stories once shared.

Elena shuffled through the letters, her hands trembling. Each envelope brought a flood of emotions, reminders of the years she’d fought for her daughters. The pain of rejection pierced her soul. "Why don't they want to come home?" she whispered to herself, the words hanging in the air like a haunting melody.

Anna, the eldest daughter, walked in, her eyes scanning the room until they met Elena's. They sat across from each other, a table full of unspoken words between them. "It's not easy for us either, Mom," Anna said softly, her voice a blend of sorrow and understanding.

Bethany, the youngest, sat beside Elena, hesitantly reaching for her hand. "We missed you, but we didn't know how to come back," Bethany confessed, her eyes mirroring the vulnerability they both felt. The gap of years seemed to close, even if just a little, with those simple words.

Claire and Sophie, the middle daughters, stood by the stove, reminiscing about their favorite childhood meals. "Feels like home again," Claire said, her smile genuine and heartwarming. Elena watched them, her heart swelling with hope and gratitude.

Elena stood by the window, looking out at her daughters chatting under the oak tree, their laughter mingling with the night air. "Perhaps this is where we start anew," she thought, feeling the weight of the past lift ever so slightly. The future, uncertain yet promising, stretched out before them like a path waiting to be walked together.