Morning came quietly, the way it did after long drives — the lake flat and silver, the sky a pale wash of grey that promised sun later. Aaron woke without alarm and lay still, orienting himself to the shape of the house around him, the familiar creak of the floorboards, the smell of coffee already rising from downstairs. Home. He had been gone two days. It felt like a month.
Sophie was in the kitchen when he came down, her back to him, the light falling across her in the way it always did in the mornings. She turned when she heard him and slid a mug across the counter without a word.
"Thanks."
"You slept," she said. It was not a question.
"I did. All night. First time in a while."
"Good." She leaned against the counter, her own mug in her hands. "What do you want to do today?"
