FAYE
There was a knock on the door. I was already awake, though I hadn’t left the bed yet. Sleep had come lightly, broken by thoughts I refused to chase.
Alexander had not returned until late. I had heard him move quietly through the room, careful not to wake me.
So I was surprised to see that he was already out of bed, and I was alone in the room.
The knock came again. “Luna, it’s me, Martha.”
“Martha?” I called.
“Yes, Luna.”
Her voice carried through the door—strained.
I sat up slowly, adjusting the robe around my shoulders. “Come in.”
The door opened carefully, as though she feared it might creak too loudly. Martha stepped inside holding a tray. Steam curled gently from a cup resting at its center.
I noticed it immediately.
The scent reached me before the sight did.
Dr. Adam
