When morning arrived—or what passed for morning in the timeless chamber—Samantha awoke feeling truly rested for the first time since giving birth and Callum's apparent death.
The grief hadn't vanished; she suspected it never would entirely. But it had transformed into something she could carry without being crushed beneath its weight. Similarly, the unsettling dissonance between her human consciousness and her hybrid nature seemed to have eased, the different aspects of herself finding a more harmonious coexistence.
Marcus was already awake, sitting cross-legged near Nova's cradle, watching the baby with an expression of profound concentration. As Samantha observed, Nova created another of her light bubbles, and Marcus extended his hand cautiously toward it. The bubble drifted to his fingertips, hovering there momentarily before bursting in a shower of tiny sparkles that clung to his skin briefly before fading.
