Katherine stood by the tall window of her hotel room, a steaming cup of tea nestled between her palms. Outside, the city was already alive. But all of it felt distant, like white noise.
What really grounded her this morning wasn't the convention outside—it was the familiar sound of her children's laughter through the phone just an hour ago.
Nathan had been excitedly telling her about the hallway so long it was "like a race track," and Maya had shown her a drawing of Felix with what suspiciously looked like cat ears. Katherine had laughed through the screen, unable to hide the affection softening her entire face.
Felix's voice, warm and slightly raspy from sleep, had done something to her too. Grounded her. Settled her.
They're okay. The twins were safe and happy, and Felix—of course—was incredible with them. He had always had that ability to make children trust him without trying too hard.
