They do not sit together by accident.
Each arrived in her own time, carrying something different — strength, grief, survival, defiance, tenderness. Some speak. Some watch. Some have learned that silence can hold more power than words ever could.
They are not the same woman told again and again. They are many women, each holding her place in a room where presence alone is enough. No one asks them to explain who they are. No one asks them to soften.
They are not waiting to be chosen.
They are not waiting to be saved.
They have taken their seats, and they remain.