The house was quiet in a way Eric still wasn't used to. Three weeks since Persais, and the silence felt earned but unfamiliar, like a borrowed jacket that fit fine and still wasn't his.
He stretched out on the couch, boots off, one arm behind his head. Upstairs, Liara was napping. She'd fought it for an hour and then dropped like a stone, the way kids did. Mia and Jessica were out shopping—Jessica's idea, which meant Mia had agreed to it for reasons that were half kindness and half reconnaissance. Mia didn't do anything for only one reason.
He let his eyes drift to the ceiling.
