SOFIA:

A soft sound pulls me out of sleep.

It’s faint, almost nothing like a door closing too carefully. For a moment I lie still, listening, my body already alert. The room is dark, lit only by the thin wash of moonlight through the curtains.

I turn toward the kids.

Killian is sprawled on his stomach, one arm flung over his pillow. Cherry is curled on her side, her small breaths even. I brush a hand over their hair, making sure they’re warm and deep asleep.

They don’t stir.

I slip ...