POV: Floriana Isadora was in the eastern garden of the complex when we arrived. This time, she wasn't sitting. She was standing at the edge of the garden, near the wall bordering the most recently rebuilt section, her hand resting on the stone, her eyes closed. She looked like someone who was listening. She opened her eyes when she heard us on the path. She looked at me. She looked at Ricardo. She looked at Sera, who was in Ricardo's arms, in the specific arrangement that had become their default morning configuration. " They came," she said. "I needed to be here," I said. "Before tomorrow." She nodded. She moved to the bench and sat down. We sat on the smaller chairs that had been placed next to it. The complex was warm in the late morning. The eastern wing stood solid behind us, the stonework neat and complete, twenty years of quiet rebuilding visible in every joint, every repaired wall, and every swept step. I had asked Ricardo to bring me here because I needed to sit i
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