Dimitri let it sit for a while before he spoke, his voice arriving at exactly the right moment, deep and unhurried, the voice of a man who had spent decades learning when silence needed to be broken and when it needed to be left alone. "Your father will come to us when his work is done."
Takoda did not answer immediately.
Her grip tightened on the spoon, slightly, briefly, the kind of thing most eyes would miss. Dimitri's did not. They never did.
"Okay," she said finally.
But she did not look toward the door. Her face did not lift in anticipation, and none of the questions that would have spilled out of her even a few hours ago, When exactly? Why not now? Can I wait up for him? came. She simply returned to eating, slowly and steadily, one small bite at a time, her hands continuing their careful work while the rest of her remained somewhere unreachable.
