Morning comes quietly, like it does not want to startle anyone.
I wake heavy-eyed but alert, awareness snapping into place the second my eyes open. My body feels rested enough, but my mind never fully shut down. It feels like I slept with one ear open, listening for something that never came. The kind of sleep that keeps you hovering just below the surface, never fully sinking. Layla is awake too. Not restless. Not pacing. Just aware in a way that sits deep and constant, like she is tracking the world even while still.
I lie there for a moment, staring at the ceiling, counting my breaths the way I do when I am trying to orient myself. In. Out. Slow and steady. The house sounds normal. Pipes hum faintly in the walls as someone downstairs turns on the sink. A cupboard opens, then closes. F
