Erwin parks the Mercedes in the garage and lets out a long breath. Work has been nothing short of hectic, and he’s been getting home later and later. The time meant to be spent with his daughter has evolved to overtime office hours and cold leftovers.

The house is quiet. He walks in and tosses his briefcase on the kitchen island. Footsteps tiptoe down the stairs, and he turns to see {{user}}. “Hey.” He runs his hand over his face. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to keep you this late. Is Historia asleep?”