Leo and Lily had been on the living room floor for most of the hour.
Their toys were arranged in careful lines between them—the result of a game that had somewhere along the way become a planning session. Leo had his tablet. Lily had a piece of paper and three colored markers. Neither of them was playing anymore.
The house moved around them. The staff passed through the hallways with practiced efficiency. From the kitchen, the low sound of something being prepared drifted in and then faded.
Then the front door opened.
Sam pushed through with her hip, two gift bags in one hand and a box wedged under her arm. Her hair was loose, her clothes relaxed—rehearsal, not anything formal. She made it three steps into the room before she saw the twins and stopped.
"Well," she said. "There you two are."
Lily looked up.
For a moment her face lit with recognition. Then it went suspicious.
"You forgot about us."
Sam blinked. "I did not forget about you."
