Beside them, the low purr of Ao'nung's BMW idled. The black paint gleamed under the grey morning light, spotless as always. Rotxo was already leaning out the passenger window, grinning at something on his phone, while Tsireya sat in the backseat with her cheer bag on her lap, her hair still slightly damp from an early swim.

In the backseat, Lo'ak was already halfway out, his hand finding Tsireya's as she stepped toward him. She laughed at something he whispered, her nose scrunching.

Ao'nung waited. His eyes were on Seylìä — patient, expectant. His thumb traced the strap of her bag, and something in his expression softened, just barely. The same look he'd had since the first time she'd showed up to one of his games with a camera around her neck.