Chapter One Hundred and Ninety-Eight — Ordinary Days
A month passed without announcement, and time did not rush or hesitate as it moved through it. It settled into place quietly, the way things did when no one was trying to force them into shape. The days did not arrive with markers or urgency, and the absence of drama made them feel fuller rather than empty.
The house learned them quickly, or perhaps it had already known how to hold people like them and was simply waiting for confirmation. Mornings developed a rhythm without being scheduled or negotiated. Light moved predictably through the rooms, catching the kitchen first, then the den, before retreating upstairs by afternoon. Willow began to recognize the sounds the house made as normal rather than new, the soft shifts that came with heat turning on, water moving through pipes, footsteps crossing familiar floors.
Zana adapted faster than either of them.
