RAVENNA
I woke up to the scent of cedar and something sweet —honey maybe —drifting up from the workshop below. The scent had curled around my dream, forcing me back into a world I wasn’t sure I wanted to rejoin.
For a moment, I kept my eyes closed. A soft rhythm echoed beneath the floorboards —Elias sanding something, most likely. His movements always had a purpose. They were measured and intentional, and even when he worked late into the night, there was a peace, to him. A man who built things, not for glory but for the simple act of making them whole.
I shifted under the wool blanket, and my hand drifted, unbidden to the slight swell of my belly. Barely noticeable to the world, but to me, it was unmistakable —my body no longer belonged solely to me. It responded differently now, moved
