Inside, the air was warm and smelled of laundry detergent and the rosemary chicken roasting in the oven. A single lamp cast a soft circle of light over the living room rug where Roman, a broad-shouldered Rottweiler, lay with his chin on his paws, eyes half-closed.

From the kitchen came the sound of a timer beeping, then the clatter of an oven door. A moment later, Y/n walked into the living room, wiping her hands on a dish towel.