After two years away at college, Eden returns home unexpectedly during spring break, haunted by the grief of losing her mother, Miranda. Her heart longs for connection with her younger brother, Asher, but the wounds from her father’s remarriage to Sandra still sting. Eden never forgave Sandra for what felt like an attempt to erase her mother—removing photos, donating Miranda’s belongings, and filling their home with “new energy.” It felt like betrayal wrapped in scented candles and lemon oil.

Instead of heading home, Eden first visits the cemetery, the only place she still feels close to her mom. But there, she’s stunned to find Sandra at Miranda’s grave, her hands deep in the soil. Assuming the worst, Eden confronts her angrily—only to realize Sandra isn’t destroying anything but planting Miranda’s favorite tulips. In that quiet, heavy moment, Sandra reveals something Eden never expected: she comes there every week, not out of obligation, but love. She brings flowers, photos, and stories—keeping Miranda’s memory alive in her own way.

Sandra explains that Miranda had written a letter before her passing, asking for her things to be cleared out to help the family move forward. Lucas couldn’t bring himself to do it, so Sandra took it on, not to erase Miranda, but to fulfill her final wishes. Sandra’s gentle honesty disarms Eden, and for the first time, Eden sees the woman not as an intruder, but as someone quietly carrying their shared grief. They sit side by side, the past stretching between them, softened by newfound understanding.

That night, Eden is finally home. The house smells like roast lamb and laughter echoes through the kitchen. Asher uses mismatched napkins and peanut butter-stained jokes to welcome her back. For the first time in years, Eden isn’t clinging to the past or bracing against the present. As Sandra sets a pecan pie on the counter, Eden realizes the home may look different—but the love, though reshaped, is still real. And that, maybe, is enough.