{Third Person POV}
The fire caught quickly. Helen had done it without being asked, moving to the hearth as soon as they were inside and getting it going with the practiced ease of someone who had done this enough times that the steps were automatic.
The cottage warmed around them gradually, the cold and the wet from outside retreating to the edges of the room and staying there.
Three cups of tea sat on the low table.
Helen sat across from the man. Sonita sat beside Helen, her bag still on the floor near her feet, her wet cloak draped over the back of the chair.
Nobody had said much since the door closed. The fire filled the silence with something that was not quite comfortable and not quite its opposite, just present, the way silences were in small warm spaces with people who did not know each other yet.
Helen looked at the man across from her.
