Franz told her at breakfast. They weren't leaving today — the trip to Gilbert's property could wait. She needed real rest, not a few hours before another airport.
"We're leaving Monday," he said. "Take the weekend."
Arianne was across from him at the kitchen table. Her coffee was untouched, her eyes carrying a weight that one night's sleep hadn't touched. She didn't argue. Just gave a small nod, the kind that barely moved.
Lily's spoon clinked against her bowl. "I want to see the northern lights."
"You will. Monday."
"That's three more days."
"Today is Friday. It doesn't count." Franz reached for his cup. "The day's already started."
"It counts if I want it to count." Lily held up her fingers, starting at her thumb. "Saturday. Sunday. Monday. Three days."
"Friday's already started. That's different from a whole day."
"It counts," she said, with the specific certainty of someone who has decided the argument is already won.
