Shay rushed in and clasped Lara's hands. "Daddy said I can go back to school today. Hurry, Mommy." She pulled her toward the door. "Let's eat breakfast and go to school. I already miss my classmates."
Breakfast, in Lara's mind, had always been more than a meal—it was a measured ritual. She remembered light porridge and fruit taken at first light, followed by a more substantial meal later in the morning: fine grains, eggs, grilled fish or meat, and a modest serving of pickled vegetables.
The memory surfaced not as nostalgia, but as habit, as though her body still expected that order.
The spread laid out before her now was modest. Shay happily ate her cereal while sandwiches were prepared for Lara and Ares. At the center of the long table that could seat ten people, sat a basket of assorted fruits, arranged with deliberate symmetry rather than casual abundance.
