March 2, 1899
Washington, D.C. — Hesh Residence, East Capitol Hill
The smell of warm bread and black coffee drifted through the kitchen as sunlight poured through lace-curtained windows, bathing the breakfast table in a golden hue. The war was over. The banners had been lowered, the rifles returned to armories, and President Matthew Hesh—for the first time in nearly a year—woke up not to telegrams, briefings, or urgent knocks on his office door, but to the light snoring of his four-year-old son sprawled across his side of the bed.
"Arthur," he murmured sleepily, brushing a stray curl from the boy's forehead. "Buddy, you're crushing my ribs."
Arthur didn't budge. He clutched a wooden toy horse in one arm and used his father's ribs as a pillow, completely content.
A quiet giggle sounded from the doorway.
