Christmas arrived without ceremony.
Lena woke to the familiar sound of coffee brewing downstairs.
For one suspended moment, still half asleep, she thought she was in New York.
She imagined Damien already awake, the newspaper spread across the kitchen counter, sunlight beginning to find its way through the apartment windows.
Then she heard the wind moving through the oak tree outside her childhood bedroom.
Houston.
The realization settled gently.
Not with disappointment.
Just recognition.
She smiled to herself before getting out of bed.
The hallway smelled faintly of cinnamon.
It always had on Christmas mornings.
Some habits survived decades.
She found her father in the kitchen wearing the same navy sweater he had worn every Christmas she could remember.
He looked up from the
