Nia Mitchell looked up at Maxwell Peary, his gentle, deep voice filling her ears.
She knew she was being a bit melodramatic, but seeing the earnest look in his eyes, a smile gradually spread across her face.
"Okay, I won't worry about anything." No one needed to grieve in advance for things that hadn't happened yet.
They happily finished breakfast; it was only eight o'clock.
"Uncle, did I get up too early today?"
Nia Mitchell lay sprawled on the sofa, idly flipping through TV channels without really watching. She grabbed a throw pillow, tucked it under her head, and positioned herself so she could see Maxwell Peary, who was sitting on the sofa by her legs.
Maxwell Peary had his laptop on his lap, his hands flying over the keyboard.
"You just noticed? I've never seen you get up this early for work." He had to practically drag her out of bed most mornings.
Nia Mitchell silently rolled her eyes. How annoying.
"Just the thought of your mother coming makes me too antsy to sleep."
