58. Caspian
I push the bedroom door open slowly, careful not to let it creak. The house is quiet, the kind of quiet that only comes after a long storm. In my arms, I carry the wooden urn like it is made of glass.
The room is dim as there is only a bedside lamp lit but the light is enough and I shed my clothes to nothing and stare at them. Zavian looks peaceful and I know this is the first time he has slept in weeks. I lift the quilt and his hand is holding her protectively around the waist.
“You are back," he whispers when he feels me settle beside her.
“Yeah."
“You got it?" He asks again in a whisper.
“I did."
“Good. Good night, twin," he says.
“Good night twin," I answer and close my eyes after covering myself and holding her hand.
I wake up to the morning light just as it i
