*Kiera*
Will has stepped out on the balcony, I am not sure if it is the same call or if he had more to make, but he seems not to be too agitated, which I assume is a good sign.
As I clear the table, the sound of Frida’s crayon scratching against the paper still echoes in the background. I sneak a glance at her… her long blonde hair cascades over her shoulders in wild tangles. She’s so absorbed in her drawing, her focus unwavering, that she doesn’t even notice me watching.
“Hey, Frida,” I say, trying to keep my tone light. “Your hair looks like a bird’s nest sweetie. Do you want me to help you brush it?”
She glances up, her blue eyes wide with surprise, then nods slowly. “Okay, but it tangles a lot. I sleep a lot, remember?” Her expression shifts slightly, and I catch a hint of sadness
