He’s pulling in his chair behind him at the head of the table, the steaming cup of tea leaving a heat stain in the wood, when he sees her standing in the doorway. She glows in the light streaming in from the windows behind her, the sun shining through golden curls, and he thinks it’s a vision at first. When she steps out of the light, he doesn’t miss when her fingers leave the door frame and she micro-wobbles.