"Mummy! Mummy!"
The voice came through the phone like the weather. Like a window opened suddenly on a cold day, not comfortable exactly, but vivid, and real, and waking.
"Seren." Amara sat up straighter. Felt herself smile before she had decided to. "How are you? How are you feeling?"
"I'm fine, Mummy, I'm home, Daddy made me noodles…"
"He did?"
"With the jar sauce, I told him to…"
"Smart girl…"
"And my fish is still alive, Daddy fed it every day…" Amara laughed. A real one. Small and surprised and real because that fish had died the day she turned 6, but of course, Seb made sure she never remembered any of that.
"Did he?"
"Every day! He told me." A pause. The brief pause of a child switching registers. "Mummy."
"Yes, baby."
