Lucien's apartment is nothing like I expected.
It's small. A two-bedroom in an older building with creaky floors and radiators that clang. But it's warm. Lived in. Real.
There are drawings taped to the walls. Ivy's artwork. A purple unicorn. A rainbow. A family of stick figures.
I stare at that last one. A tall figure, a small figure, and—nothing else. Just the two of them.
"She drew that last week," Lucien says quietly, following my gaze. "Before she met you."
Before. When it was just them against the world.
"Sera!" Ivy bursts from her bedroom like a glitter bomb. She's wearing a tutu over jeans and a tiara that's slightly crooked. "You came! Daddy said you might not come but I knew you would because you promised!"
She crashes into me with a hug. I freeze for a second, not used to
