October 20, 2025 — 5:45 AM
Rockwell, Basement Parking — Private Vehicle
The sky was still dark, the city not yet awake.
Angel stood beside their SUV, tying her hair into a loose ponytail. She wore a pale green hoodie over a nursing top and black leggings, a diaper bag slung over her shoulder like it was standard military kit. A large thermos was wedged between two bags in the trunk.
Matthew finished double-checking the car seat for the third time, giving it a light tug.
"She's secure," he muttered, mostly to himself.
Angel peeked through the window to see Aurora fast asleep, bundled in a travel onesie with tiny whales printed across the fabric. A pacifier hung loosely from the clip on her chest, and one hand had a death grip on her favorite plush cat.
"I almost don't want to move her," Angel whispered.
Matthew stepped back and exhaled. "Too late to turn back now. Coffee?"
She handed him the thermos.
The idea had come weeks ago. A break. Just the three of them.
