By the next morning, every difficult conversation seemed to lead back to the kitchen table.
Summer and Marika sat together on one side, close enough that their shoulders almost touched. Taiyang sat opposite them, his hands wrapped around a mug of tea that had long since gone cold. Ruby had taken the chair between them, close enough to reach either parent without getting up, while Yang stayed by the counter, as though unwilling to commit to either.
Yang’s wary gaze was fleeting as she swept across the room—absently noting the divide—and when she finally spoke, her voice was soft.
"I was wondering when that would come up."
She had been avoiding it. They all had.
Taiyang set down his mug. "We were going to tell you,” he said, facing his wife.
"When?"
"After you'd settled in. After you'd rested. After—" He stopped and rubbed his face. "After we stopped crying long enough to think straight."
Summer's expression softened.
"I understand," she said. "I do. But—" She pressed her lips together. "You were hiding things from me. Important things."
Ruby fidgeted slightly, biting her lips. "Mom, it's not like we were trying to keep secrets—"
"You were."
Summer's voice wasn't angry, but it was noticeably tired, brooking no argument.
"I know you didn't mean it badly," she continued. "I know you were probably trying to ease me into things." She shook her head slowly. "But I came back from the dead. I crossed worlds. I found my family again. And you—" She stopped, swallowed hard. "You kept something as important as this from me."
Ruby's eyes glistened. "We're sorry."
"I know you are." Summer reached out and took Ruby's hand. "I'm not angry. I'm just—" She exhaled slowly. "Sad. And a little hurt."
Marika's hand found Summer’s, drawing a small frown from Yang.
"Beacon was overrun by Grimm during the Vytal Festival,” she said, uncaring for how abrupt the bombshell was.
Summer turned toward her eldest daughter. Her face remained carefully neutral, but her eyes flicked to Yang’s missing arm.
Yang shifted without thinking, angling herself so the empty sleeve was less obvious.
"The attack was orchestrated by someone named Cinder Fall," she continued. "She had help from the White Fang."
Summer nodded slowly. "Cinder Fall."
"Yes."
"And the White Fang."
"Yes."
Summer's expression hardened. "I know that name. White Fang." She said it like she was tasting it. "I thought they were a peaceful movement."
Yang's lone hand curled into a fist at her side. "Didn't stop one of them from cutting off my arm."
Summer's face did not change—not visibly—but Yang saw her fingers tighten around Marika's wrist.
Still, she didn't reply.
Her dad eventually broke the silence.
"Beacon is gone, overrun by Grimm. And Ozpin—"
"Ozpin is dead," Summer finished.
It was not a question.
Taiyang nodded slowly. "Yes."
Summer was quiet for a long moment. Then, unexpectedly, she laughed. It was not a happy laugh.
"He's dead," she repeated. "Of course he's dead. Of course."
Ruby frowned. "Mom?"
Summer waved a hand dismissively. "It's nothing."
"It's clearly not nothing."
"Ruby—"
Ruby opened her mouth to press the point, but the window suddenly exploded inward, something large forcing its way through the frame in a blur of black feathers.
A crow.
One bigger than any bird had a right to be, its feathers ruffled and wild, and its beak open in a harsh cry that cut through the tension.
Ruby yelped and nearly fell out of her chair, and Yang reached instinctively for a weapon she no longer carried before relaxing with a sigh. As for Summer, she had become still in recognition, her hand still gripping Marika's wrist.
The crow landed on the kitchen table with a heavy thump, scattering mugs and utensils alike. It shook its head, ruffled its feathers, and then… shifted.
The transformation was quick and seemingly painless, a twisting of feathers and shadow that resolved itself into a man. A tall grizzled man, wearing a tattered red cape and a frantic look in his eyes.
Qrow Branwen stood in the middle of the kitchen, breathing hard as he swept his eyes across the room. Then they landed on Summer, and stopped.
"...Summer?" His voice cracked on the name.
Summer stared at him with a melancholic smile. "Hello, Qrow."