The fire had been burning for hours.
Arianne didn't remember lighting it. Somewhere between the third report and the fourth, the logs had caught and settled into something low and steady. The rest of the room stayed dark except for the floor lamp bleeding gold onto her laptop screen.
Her neck ached.
She'd been in the same position too long—knees tucked, spine curved over the keyboard, one hand scrolling through logistics numbers that blurred together. The report said inventory was within acceptable variance. She'd still make Gio confirm in the morning.
She reached for the next file.
Then she heard the footsteps.
Small. Dragging.
Arianne's hand stopped.
Lily appeared in the hallway entrance first. The girl walked slower than usual, her favorite long-sleeved shirt swallowing her hands. She rubbed her nose with the back of her wrist.
Behind her, Leo.
No tablet.
