The days did not pass dramatically.
They layered themselves gently, one breath over another, pain easing in increments so small Willow didn't trust them enough to celebrate. Her body still reminded her of what it had endured, but the sharpness softened, giving way to a deep, manageable ache that no longer demanded all her attention. Mornings arrived without alarms or urgency. Afternoons stretched instead of pressing in. Nights no longer felt like something to endure, but something she could settle into without bracing.
Victor called from the airport.
She recognized the hollow echo behind his voice immediately, the way sound always thinned in places meant for departures. Zane was in the kitchen rinsing fruit when her phone rang. Willow glanced at the screen, hesitated just long enough to acknowledge the weight of the moment, then answered.
"Hi," she said softly.
"Hi, Willow."
