Redhawk Caldera I don't like people who threaten kids.

The story filled the space. Reyes wasn't so daft as to ignore the implication of it; he didn't enjoy the way Teya told her stories now with deeper meanings, the likes of which were not for Sorana to understand. It was like Teya chose to speak in code to him in these moments—rather than say outright what she felt.

There was nothing more to be said. His daughter appeared to enjoy the tale and was full, warm, and seemingly content where she lay beside her mother.

In time she would sleep and the tenuous peace that had been found with Sorana as the ignorant mediator (in some liminal capacity at any rate) would become a moment of silence, and tension, and awkwardness. Reyes wanted to say something. He had to bite his tongue once again, for the sake of his daughter's sleep (or so he told himself) and so he withheld whatever sentiment remained.

This was how it worked between them now. Peace and love when Sorana was awake, where it mattered most. Estrangement growing in the dark and festering. It was exactly what Reyes was afraid of; but he'd seen this coming, because it was inevitable.