Bear races to Maia, shouting her nickname “Bees,” and smothers her in a hug, instantly dissolving Maia’s travel fatigue and self-doubt from a disappointing visit with her French acquaintance Valerié. Flashbacks show how Bear coined “Bees,” how adults are charmed by Bear’s name, and how Maia basks in his warmth. An earlier exchange with their grandmother reveals Bear’s insistence that he and Maia are “creatures,” sealing their private language and bond.

The narrative widens to Mehri and Fern, whose home has become a chosen-family refuge after the family’s trauma. Fern jokes about wishing for a Bear of their own, and Mehri affectionately dotes on him. Maia notes she sees life as “before” and “after,” with Mehri and Fern anchoring the after. Fern’s father Roland travels often; when he is home, Maia pulls back, and Fern reassures her that not all fathers are like Maia’s.

At school, Maia experiences hypervigilance and a freeze response, which her therapist Peggy names within the fight/flight/freeze/fawn framework. Peggy’s care—symbolized by gifting Maia a handkerchief—offers small, steadying comfort. Boys tease Maia for her startle responses; Mehri calls out their behavior, while Fern casually notes Maia is into girls. Maia privately recalls recognizing her attraction to Fern during a childhood swim lesson.

Back in the present, Maia and Bear walk home, chat about France and whether Cora (“Mama Bear”) or Mehri will be around, and make frothy strawberry milkshakes. In a gentle, comic scene, Bear compares the smell and imagined taste of coins, and Maia soaks in his laughter.

The point of view shifts to Cora at work, pruning forsythia at a stately home garden. She appreciates the anonymity and the meditative labor, then reflects on the years of infertility Gordon weaponized against her, wondering if her body had protected her and future children. She contrasts that past with her current, sunlit calm, and thinks about going home, acknowledging her lingering wobble when Mehri is less available while Roland is back.

Cora recalls the immediate aftermath of Gordon’s arrest: a procession of officials, her mother Sílbhe’s fierce nightly vigilance at the bedroom door, and the slow dissipation of injuries and tinnitus. She remembers neighbors cleaning Vihaan’s blood from the patio, the press’s insinuations, and the quiet after her mother returned to Ireland. Determined to move forward, Cora baked with Maia and Bear, discovering a new, flexible rhythm.

She recounts the suspended period before Gordon’s conviction, when routines loosened and home became a safe cocoon: afternoon baths, times tables during night feeds, and playful “health food” breakfasts. Cora even danced again while Bear laughed in his bouncer, and Mehri’s regular meals knitted their households closer. Now, at sixteen, Fern is mouthy and confident, and Maia is deeply capable; a counselor once affirmed that Maia’s care for Bear could be healing if it didn’t overburden her.

In the present, Cora arrives home with pizza to Maia and Bear. They share small domestic jokes—Bear stretching a strand of mozzarella—and in the cramped kitchen Cora feels a quiet awe that they have made a safe, functioning life together.