Erik found Penelope in the kitchen the morning after the reunion, the household still settling into its fuller, louder new rhythm, and pulled her aside with a quiet nod toward the hallway.
"Can I talk to you for a minute?"
"Of course." She set down the cup she'd been drying, following him a few steps away from the busy kitchen. "What's on your mind?"
"Silver. Dahlia." Erik kept his voice low, mindful of the still-fresh joy filling the rest of the apartment. "I think we should contract them. Soon."
Penelope's brow lifted slightly, though she didn't look surprised — the thought had clearly already been circling somewhere in her own mind since the reunion. "I was thinking the same thing."
"The farm work's only getting harder," Erik continued. "Between the animals, the garden, the pond — we're stretched thin even with Ben and Aunt Lucy helping daily. More hands would make an actual difference, and it means they'd have the same protection the rest of us do."
