Walking to the supermarket, Bastien called Lucca.

—Boss.

—What did the doctor say?

—That Ara has been out of danger for days, that they can’t keep us here anymore, and that she’ll be discharged—as they should have done two days ago.

—No.

—Bastien, Ara is fine. They won’t keep her hospitalized.

—Yes, pay the doctor. I need Ara to stay at least four more days. If they discharge her, Kate will leave.

—Okay, I’ll do my best.

—Thanks.

Bastien smiled, bought the groceries, returned to the apartment—and didn’t see Kate.

—Kate? —He went to the bedroom— —Kate? —Nothing. He heard the bathroom door open: Kate emerged, wrapped in a towel.

—What are you doing here? Get out of my room!

—I just wanted to check if you’re okay. I just got back. I’ll cook now.

Before Kate could answer, Bastien left, her anger palpable.

In the kitchen, the smell of homemade food filled the apartment. Kate, in her bedroom with a maternity book in hand, couldn’t resist. Following the aroma, she reached the living room. Ba