“Mom, you’re thinking again.”Seraphina blinked, the sound of Aldren’s voice pulling her back into the kitchen.She looked down at him where he sat at the table, legs swinging lightly beneath the chair, a piece of toast forgotten in his hand. His eyes were on her—not curious—observant.She forced a small smile. “Am I?”He nodded, like it was obvious. “You do that when you forget to flip things.”Seraphina’s gaze flicked to the pan.The eggs.She turned quickly, flipping them just before they browned too much, exhaling quietly as she adjusted the heat. “Good catch.”“I know,” he said, satisfied, taking another bite of his toast.She plated the eggs, setting them in front of him before leaning against the counter for a second longer than necessary. The morning moved around her—soft light through the window, the faint hum of the city waking up—but something in her felt slightly out of place.Like she had stepped out of rhythm without meaning to.“You have drawing today, right?” she asked
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