Liana I wake before the sun. The view from my bedroom windows is breathtaking, the city still not quite awake, but as if it too wants to see what the new dawn will bring. For so long we had slept in shelters, cheap motel rooms, sometimes even outside that the luxury around me still seems like a dream.I shake of the melancholy, take a deep breath and embrace the quiet, the space, the faint scent of Adriano still lingering in the room. For some reason Adriano’s penthouse doesn’t feel cold this morning. It feels… lived in. Like it was waiting for people to wake to it, to laugh and cry in it... I freshen up quickly and then pad into the kitchen barefoot and decide, without overthinking it, to bake. Muffins first. Blueberry. Remi always loved blueberry. While they’re in the oven, I inspect the fridge, there’s deli cold cuts, cheese, fruit. I pack a lunch box—sandwich with all the trimmings, cut lovingly in triangles, fruit washed and sliced, a small chocolate tucked into the cor
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