The house woke before Lena did.
Not with sound but with tension.
She felt it the moment consciousness returned, that subtle pressure in her chest, as though the air itself had grown heavier overnight. For a long moment, she lay still beneath the covers, staring at the pale ceiling, listening for something—footsteps, voices, anything to anchor her.
Nothing came.
Get up, she told herself. Routine.
She dressed carefully, choosing neutral colors again, armor disguised as simplicity. As she tied her hair back, her reflection stared at her with unfamiliar intensity. There was a brightness in her eyes she didn’t quite recognize,alert, aware, pulled taut.
The line still existed.
But it was closer now. Close enough to feel.
Breakfast unfolded differently.
Alex was already seated when Lena
