Dante’s pov

Dante leaned against the window, observing the sky grow dim, as the city lights began to glow beneath. Lia maneuvered through the kitchen behind him, the gentle sound of dishes breaking the stillness. Luca lay stretched across the couch, sketchbook in hand, engrossed in his thoughts. It ought to have seemed ordinary. Perhaps it was. Perhaps that was the issue. Lia's voice drew him back. “Will you stay there the entire night?” Dante looked back over his shoulder. She was ...