Rianor woke up to the cold emptiness on the other side of the bed.
The sky behind the curtains was still a pale gray. He patted the pillow beside him; it was empty. Turning his head, he saw Elara already sitting in her wheelchair by the window, brushing her red hair with one hand while holding a small mirror in the other. Brush... brush... Her belly had started to round out beneath her nightgown—still small, but enough to make Rianor gulp.
"What time is it?" Rianor mumbled. His voice was still raspy, and his eyelids felt like they were weighed down by lead.
"Half-past five," Elara replied without looking back, her fingers continuing to tame a stubborn strand of hair. "Go back to sleep if you want."
"Why are you up so early?" Rianor sat up, rubbing his eyes. Without his glasses, the world was nothing but a blurry blob.
"Because my school won't open itself." Elara placed the brush on her lap, then shot a fleeting glance at her belly.
