The sitting room was warm. The twins were in their pajamas—Lily in blue with small stars, Leo in gray with a whale on the chest. They sat side by side on the sofa, Lily's feet not quite reaching the floor, Leo's whale positioned beside him like a third participant.
Franz had called them down after dinner. Not urgent. Just—a talk, he'd said. Lily had come immediately. Leo had followed, but his pace had slowed at the door.
Arianne sat in the armchair near the window. Franz took the edge of the coffee table, bringing himself to their level.
"Your dad's birthday is next week," he said.
Lily's hands went still in her lap.
Leo didn't move.
"I know we didn't do anything for the anniversary. Grandpa Vincent wasn't well, and we weren't sure—" Franz stopped. Started again. "We weren't sure how you'd feel. We should have asked you then. We're asking now."
The silence stretched. Outside, the early spring wind moved through the bare branches. Inside, the lamplight fell warm across the rug.
