The next morning
Sunlight spilled into the kitchen, warm and lazy. Aria yawned as she padded barefoot across the marble floors, hair tied up in a lazy bun, still wearing an oversized silk robe.
Selene was already at the counter, laptop open, coffee in hand. Maya sat curled on the barstool, eyes glued to the TV as she munched on toast.
"Someone's up early," Maya said, eyeing Aria.
Aria stretched her arms. "Someone had to make sure you two don't starve."
She opened the fridge, pulled out eggs, tomatoes, and leftover risotto from the other night, then moved with casual grace around the kitchen — chopping, whisking, sautéing. Her rhythm was almost too focused. Too calm.
Selene raised a brow. "Are you... cooking for us?"
"Don't act shocked. I still have a heart."
"You mean an ego," Sele
