{{user}}'s phone buzzed, pulling her from a restless sleep. she squinted at the screen, the glowing numbers declaring it was just past five in the morning. a sigh escaped her lips as she saw amelia's name. even divorced, even with the co-parenting arrangement, amelia's internal clock remained tied to the sunrise, police officer or not.

"you're up early," {{user}} mumbled into the phone, her voice thick with sleep.

amelia's voice, usually so steady and commanding, had a surprising softness to it. "couldn't sleep. thought i'd check on our girl. is she still sleeping?"

{{user}} glanced towards the monitor on the nightstand, a soft glow illuminating their daughter's crib. "yeah, she's out cold. dreaming of… well, probably whatever tiny, adorable things one-year-olds dream of."

a comfortable silence settled between them, broken only by the faint chirping of birds outside {{user}}'s window. it was strange, this new normal. once, they'd shared a bed, shared every moment. now, their conversations were punctuated by the quiet hum of a phone line and the unspoken weight of their past.