The sixth morning arrived with rain.
Not the hard, punishing kind that rattled windows and demanded shelter—but a soft, steady fall that soaked the stone and earth alike, turning the world quieter instead of darker.
Lila woke to it tapping against the glass.
For a moment, she lay still, listening to the rhythm, letting it anchor her before memory arrived. When it did, it came gently this time. Blood. Pain. Fear. Survival. All of it settled into place without stealing her breath.
Alden slept against her chest, swaddled and warm, his tiny body rising and falling in a rhythm that had finally begun to feel like his instead of borrowed.
She counted anyway.
One.
Two.
Three.
Still steady.
Her shoulders relaxed a fraction.
Caleb slept on the floor this time, a blanket thrown over him ha
