Six weeks felt short until it didn't.
Week one: Sera's rest protocol. I checked on her every other day — not as her physician, as her sister, which meant I brought food and sat on her couch and let her talk about everything except the haematoma because she had decided not to make the haematoma the weather of the two weeks. Draven made spreadsheets. The spreadsheets were about baby names. He had organized them by cultural origin, phonetic compatibility with Malketh, and what he described as *aural weight.* I had not known aural weight was a consideration in naming a child. I did now.
"He has thirty-seven names in the spreadsheet," Sera told me.
"That's very Draven," I said.
"He has a weighted scoring system," she said.
"Of course he does," I said.
"He showed it to me," she said. "I cr
