They woke to the ordinary sounds of the house reclaiming them.
Clara was already at the kitchen table with the ledger open and a cup of yesterday's coffee reheated on the stove. The pages showed the numbers from the contract still sitting in the surplus column, untouched since the night before.
Eli moved through the gear stacked by the door, sorting what needed oil from what needed only airing. She checked the edges of her blades with the same steady attention she gave everything else.
Lara stood at the open window overlooking the river path, sleeves rolled to the elbow, checking the wards with the quiet thoroughness she had used on Atlas's arm for weeks.
Atlas sat up slower than the others. The forearm ached in a clean, closed way under the bracer he had not yet removed. The solid mattress and the absence of cart wheels under his back felt almost foreign after the road.
