Franz returned home to an empty house.
The twins were spending the night with Layla's parents, and the absence of their voices—Lily's constant chatter, Leo's occasional tablet dings—made the estate feel larger than it was. The foyer lamp was on, but the sitting room was dim except for the flickering glow of the television. The evening news was playing, the sound low, and Arianne was on the couch.
She didn't notice him come in.
He stood in the doorway, watching her. She was staring at the television, but her eyes weren't tracking the images on the screen. Her hand rested on her belly. Her expression was distant, thoughtful, the way it got when she was turning something over in her mind and hadn't yet decided what to do with it.
He shrugged off his coat and crossed to the couch. Only when he sat beside her did she blink and turn her head.
"You're home," she said.
