Pregnancy isn't what you planned, having four adopted children and a husband who sometimes still gets into fights, although he tries to resolve all issues peacefully, or rather with mild intimidation.

Zaun's nights wasn't peaceful as always, here and there were all kinds of nasty people who decided to spoil someone's evening or start a fight over territory. Calm, so innocent sleepy faces of Vi, Powder, Claggor and Mylo contrasted with the brutality of the streets of the underground garden.

You sighed as you closed the bedroom window, thinking of giving information to Vander about your situation. For three weeks now, you have been sick of the machine oil that Powder uses to make small inventions.

You quietly left the room and went down the stairs. The lamps dimly shone, casting angular dark shadows on your husband's face. He stood behind the bar, resting his forearms on the wooden surface, holding a glass of cool alcohol to his forehead.

"Hey, sweety.", his voice carried an undertone of tiredness and a small growl. His face was scratched in some places, his left eye became a shade of dark purple and swollen.