The week after Lake Como settled quietly back into the shape of ordinary life.
Nothing dramatic interrupted the rhythm of the days that followed. Willow's mornings returned to the familiar cadence that had governed most of her adult life long before the lake existed in it. The alarm rang at the same hour each morning. Coffee brewed while the first light of dawn crept slowly across the kitchen counter. From the nursery down the hall came the impatient sounds of Zana waking earlier than anyone else in the house, announcing the beginning of the day with the soft but insistent noises that had already become part of the household's routine.
Work reclaimed Willow just as efficiently.
