The quiet Demetri promised had settled over them, not as an absence of sound, but as a full, rich presence of peace. It was late afternoon, the light in the nursery a soft, golden hue that seemed to wash away the harsh edges of the world they’d just conquered. Sasha had fallen asleep again, not with the fretful exhaustion of a child caught in a crisis, but with the deep, trusting sleep of a child finally and totally safe.
Demetri and Nora sat side-by-side on the thick rug, the book still resting on Demetri’s lap. Sasha was curled between them, her head pillowed against Nora’s thigh, her small hand loosely holding one of Demetri’s fingers. They had been like this for over an hour, a silent, unbroken tableau of domesticity that felt infinitely more vital and powerful than any declaration ma
