Luna was seventy when she finally emerged from the grief that had consumed her for five years. The decade following Sienna's death had been the hardest of her life, worse than any cosmic crisis or bridge transformation. She'd survived by barely functioning, maintaining essential bridge duties while existing in the fog of loss.
"You're back," River observed during a bridge council meeting. "Really back, not just present physically. I can feel the difference."
"I'm trying to be back. Some days are easier than others." Luna looked around the council chamber at faces she'd known for decades. "Thank you for carrying an extra burden while I was grieving."
"That's what bridge councils are for. Supporting each other through what we can't handle alone."
The world had changed during Luna's grief
