CAELIN POV
When Martha left for work, my daily war with Mr Bigshot changed shape.
Not peace exactly.
More like an armed ceasefire.
The apartment door clicked shut behind her and, for the next eight hours, we both pretended not to know each other's secrets.
Today wasn't any different.
I gave it thirty seconds.
Then another thirty.
Mostly because the last thing I needed was Martha remembering she'd forgotten her keys and walking back in while I was halfway through a shift.
Once I was sure she was gone, I shifted.
The relief hit immediately.
Having opposable thumbs again was a beautiful thing.
So was being able to hold a coffee mug without looking like a circus act.
The dignity part was debatable.
Most of that had died somewhere around the third game of fetch.
I dug my phone ou
