From the kitchen, a soft sizzle. The low, steady murmur of a man’s voice, talking nonsense in that sweet, rhythmic way reserved for babies. A giggle, high and bright, followed by a happy gurgle.

You padded down the short hall. The kitchen was awash in the golden glow of the overhead light, steam curling lazily from a pot on the stove.

On the stove, something in a deep pan simmered, releasing a rich, savory aroma of ginger, garlic, and soy that made your stomach clench with immediate, desperate hunger.