Dinner was a quieter affair than usual, though that might have been because we were all still processing the events of the day. Sienna had outdone herself—roasted chicken with herbs, garlic mashed potatoes, and vegetables that actually looked appetizing. The kind of home-cooked meal that reminded you why having someone who cared was worth more than any restaurant.
Alexis sat across from me, her hair pulled back in a loose ponytail. She looked better than she had hours ago—the redness around her eyes had faded, and she'd regained some of that clinical composure I associated with her. But there was still a softness there, a vulnerability she wasn't quite ready to hide yet. It wasn't a pleasant sight to say the least.
"This is amazing, Sienna," Camille said around a mouthful of chicken, her wild energy somewhat tempered by exhaustion. "Seriously. I don't know how you do it."
Sienna smiled warmly from her seat beside me. "It's not that complicated. Just takes time and attention."
