When Dorothy woke up, the night had already wrapped the world outside in its dark embrace.

Stretching languidly, she rose from the bed. Her legs were still tingling with a residual soreness, but at least she could walk now.

Stepping out of the bedroom, the first floor was deserted, with only a single lamp casting a warm glow in the living room—it seemed like no one from upstairs had ventured down in quite some time.

As she reached the stairwell, the sounds of playful commotion drifted down from above. Everett was up there, his patience a well from which Abigail and Langston drew joyously. Each question they posed was met with careful attention, and Everett's answers were thorough, a testament to his commitment to their curiosity.

Corporation, loads of work had awaited him, yet here he

Dorothy’s movement, Everett looked toward

toys—no forts or anything too rowdy that might have prompted a mild

Dorothy into a comforting embrace. "Awake now, are you hungry?" "Not really." Dorothy's appetite was modest, and she could go a long

nodded, uncharacteristically compliant. "Okay." Meanwhile, Langston let out a sigh of relief as the progress bar on his computer finally hit 100%. He turned to share

with a gentle question. "Mommy and I are visiting Saint Cathedral tomorrow morning. You two want to come?" Abigail was about to

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