Morning came fast. Edward woke long before the hour of his choosing. For reasons he could never quite name, this world always left him heavier in sleep, drawn to the bed as if gravity itself tugged harder here.
He pushed himself upright with a half-asleep groan. His head dipped forward, hair falling into his eyes, until a faint sound from downstairs pulled him sharply awake. It wasn't laughter or chatter—it was sharper, sounding far too serious and urgent for a light conversation.
Curiosity flickered across his face as he rose to his feet.
He moved toward the door, wanting to see what all the noise was about, but the moment he swung open the door, someone was already standing in its threshold.
Seraphine stood with her hand raised as if about to knock—or sneak in like she usually does.
She froze when he suddenly opened the door.
Then a guilty grin curved her lips.
"Morning," she said, her voice light and eyes bright with mischief.
