Charlie was out cold.
The kind of sleep only kids and the deeply exhausted could manage—mouth slightly open, one sock off, cheek pressed to my shoulder. I adjusted my grip slightly, keeping one arm steady beneath his legs and the other behind his back. He didn't stir. His tablet, now inactive and covered in dinosaur doodles, was tucked under my arm like contraband.
The apartment was quiet behind me. Camille and Sienna had taken to cleaning without being asked, Evelyn had gone back to her room, and Alexis was deep in prep for her scan. It was the most peace we'd had in weeks.
But peace wasn't portable. I had to carry it.
The city felt different at night.
