Regan attributed the first occurrence to a dream.
He was lying awake in the blue-dark hours before morning, surrounded by the familiar sounds of their house settling. The old wooden beams creaked softly in the cold air, and mice darted about the walls with the frantic determination of creatures that hunt at night. Months later, these sounds no longer startled him; instead, they became part of the background noise and gave him the same comforting rhythm as Lila’s steady breathing beside him.
Suddenly, though, her breathing loosened up, became more deliberate, and words trickled out of her mouth like long-kept secrets.
Her voice was fragile and sleepy, yet she whispered, "...need to pack your lunch," and he felt his chest constrict in response. "Yesterday, you failed to bring your juic
