Morning arrived without announcement, the same way it always had.
Atlas woke to the river and the heavier, warmer weight of three bodies instead of two. Lara's head rested near his shoulder, one hand still loosely holding his. Clara lay along his other side, her breath steady against his skin.
Eli's arm remained draped across all of them like the final brace she had described the night before. The blanket had stayed in place this time. Soft light moved across the floorboards in its usual slow stripe.
He stayed still for a while, letting the weight settle into something ordinary. No one stirred at once. The house made its small morning sounds—the faint creak of cooling wood, the distant shift of the cat somewhere downstairs, the river keeping its steady pace against the bank.
