Nora's POV
The rich aroma of coffee permeates the kitchen as I stand beside the brewing machine, drumming my fingers against the counter. Sleep eluded me completely last night. Between my futile attempts to summon my wings so I could fly straight to the Underworld and retrieve James, and Renata's persistent gassiness, rest never came. Not that both problems occurred simultaneously, but I managed maybe twenty minutes of actual sleep before her cries pierced the dawn air. Antonia stepped in when morning light filtered through the windows, yet hearing my daughter's distress made falling back asleep impossible.
