It wasn't a worry for today or anytime in the near future, but she wanted to tell her sisters about Fenella.
Would they be as happy about it as she was?
Rationally, a relation going back twenty-five generations could apply to half the population of a small town or an entire tribe of people who didn't travel far.
Standing in front of Yasmin's door, she rang the bell and waited.
The door was opened by Essa, Yasmin's eldest son, his solemn eyes brightening at the sight of her.
"Aunt Kyra." He stepped back to let her in. "Maman is in the kitchen."
"Thank you." She touched his shoulder briefly as she passed. The boy seemed to have aged years since his father's death.
"Kyra!" Yasmin walked out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on a dishtowel and managing to produce a smile. "I was just making tea. Soraya and Rana should be here soon as well."
Kyra's gaze followed Essa as he stepped out through the living room sliding doors to the backyard, where his siblings were. He was such a great help to his mother.
"What about Parisa?" Kyra settled at the kitchen island while Yasmin busied herself with the kettle.
"She said she will be a little late. Vrog is with her boys, showing them how to use the self-teaching software."
Kyra nodded. "How are you holding up?"
Yasmin shrugged. "Doing my best to be there for the kids. Essa is such a great help. I don't know what I would have done without him."
The children had all experienced trauma, and each was processing it differently. "I actually have some news to share with all of you, but I can start with you if you'd like."
Perhaps it would cheer Yasmin up to know Fenella was a cousin.
Yasmin's eyebrows lifted. "Good news, I hope? We could use more of that."
"I think so," Kyra said. "Turns out that we are related to Fenella. Our common ancestress lived seven to eight centuries ago, but since we stem from the same female line, immortals consider us closely related, meaning that Fenella's children cannot marry any of ours."
"That's amazing," Yasmin whispered. "The world is so much smaller than we imagine."
The front door opened, voices filled the entryway, and a few moments later, Soraya and Rana walked into the kitchen.
"Kyra has news," Yasmin said as the two joined them. "About Fenella."
Kyra repeated her explanation as her sisters settled around the island, watching their expressions shift from surprise to wonder.
"So, we have more family," Rana said. "Our clan grows larger."
"Do you know if she has any siblings?" Soraya asked.
"I think she has two brothers," Kyra said. "But they must be old by now. She's seventy-three. And since her brothers couldn't transmit the immortal gene to their children, there's no point in seeking them out. She was very happy to discover that we are related and she's not alone."
Yasmin discreetly wiped at her eyes, hoping no one would notice, but Kyra did. She also noticed her sister's hunched-over posture, which spoke of bone-deep exhaustion, the kind that sleep couldn't help.
"What's going on, Yasmin?" Kyra put her hand on her sister's back. "Don't hold everything inside, trying to be brave. You have four sisters who are here for you."
The façade cracked. "It's so difficult. The children have nightmares. Rohan calls for his father every night, and I don't know what to say anymore." She set down her cup. "Cyra has become withdrawn. I can't reach her."
"It will get better," Rana said, though her tone lacked conviction.
Yasmin sighed. "I know. But sometimes I look at all of them—five children who need so much from me, and I wonder if I'm strong enough."
"You are not alone," Kyra reminded her. "We're all here. The whole clan is here. But you need to tell us what you need us to do. We can't just guess or assume."