Lynn's POV

Six months after Lira left, I stopped listening for her footsteps.

Not because I'd forgotten them. Because I'd learned to hear the house differently — the particular shape it made with five instead of six, the way certain rooms had adjusted and others still hadn't quite. Her studio was the same. I hadn't changed anything in it. Grayson hadn't asked me to and I hadn't asked myself to, and so it stayed, waiting with the patient quality of a room that knows it will be ...