Sera’s POV
The pizza box sits open on the kitchen island, half-empty with grease stains bloom across the cardboard.
Aria fell asleep on the couch twenty minutes ago, cheek smudged against a throw pillow, purple Band-Aid crooked on her knee, one tiny hand still curled around the stuffed rabbit toy she refuses to sleep without.
Cassian is rinsing plates at the sink with his sleeves rolled to his elbows and his forearms flexing every time he scrubs.
A faint bruise already purpling along the side of his left hand from where he must have caught himself when he dropped to his knees in the grass earlier.
I should go upstairs and change out of my work clothes. Maybe even take a shower.
I should put distance between us.
Instead I stay right here, leaning against the opposite side of the
