The morning came slow.
I hadn't slept well.
Not because of nightmares, but because my mind refused to shut off.
I turned my head slightly. Camille was still curled up beside me, her steady breathing barely audible over the faint sounds of breakfast being made. The warmth of her body against mine should've been grounding, comforting.
But I felt off.
Even now, even with the familiar routine playing out around me, something sat heavy in my chest.
The system was wrong.
No—my system was wrong.
I needed answers.
And there was only one person I knew who could help me get them.
I took a quiet breath, pressing a soft kiss to Camille's forehead before slipping out of bed. She mumbled something incoherent, nuzzling deeper into the sheets, still half-asleep. I smiled despite myself.
Walking into the kitchen, I found Sienna at the stove, humming as she worked. The smell of eggs and toast filled the air, a scent so familiar it almost made me forget about everything else.
Almost.
