Tessa padded into the kitchen, rubbing her eyes, one hand on the edge of the counter as she reached for a glass.

She stood barefoot in one of Roman’s oversized T-shirts, as she poured the cold water into the glass.

The air smelled faintly of the chamomile tea Klara had been drinking, now spilt across the island where her elbows rested, head bowed, shoulders shaking with silent sobs.

Tessa froze as soon as she heard the sounds.

Her eyes squinted in the dark until she noticed the figure sitting.

“Klara?” She whispered.

Klara’s head snapped up. She swiped the tears away with the heel of her hand so viciously that...