I woke on the sofa, the first light of a new day filtering through the penthouse windows. The heavy blanket was pooled around my waist, and my neck was stiff from the awkward angle. For a long, disorienting moment, I was adrift, the cold, alien silence of Alyssara's sanctum feeling more real than the soft cushions beneath me. The sheer, crushing weight of my new Divinity felt like a physical restraint.
Then, I heard the soft, steady breathing beside me.
Stella was still fast asleep, curled up in the small space between me and the back of the sofa, her dark hair splayed across the cushion. She had, at some point, stolen most of the blanket. A small, involuntary smile touched my lips. The crushing weight of the Divine receded, pushed back by the simple, undeniable reality of my daughter drooling slightly on my shirt. This was the anchor. This was real.
