Mara lay awake, staring at the ceiling, her mind restless. No matter how hard she tried, there was something her memories refused to reveal—a piece of the past just out of reach.
"You can sleep in my room tonight," Steve murmured, his voice gentle. "I'll have Mom's room prepared for you and get you new things." It was an old habit of his, as if he could read her thoughts before she even spoke them.
Mara offered a small smile. "No, it's fine," she whispered.
Steve leaned against the doorframe, watching her. "Everything's just as you left it. We didn't want to risk you throwing a tantrum if anything had changed." His lips curled into a teasing grin. "Someone did touch a few things, but I guess you've outgrown this room. Our little Stafania, ten years old in my mind… and now, about to be a mother."
