A smile flickered over Adam's face at the sight of Ronan healthy and relaxed. Hope looked better on Ronan than rage, though Adam loved him either way. "Go and look," he said, nodding toward the ladder.

"The structure of the building is sound," Adam continued, as he watched Ronan climb the ladder. "There's no damage, only dust. Everything's just about finished. Shall I go ahead and draw you a bath now?"

At the top of the ladder, Adam had arranged to have the bed made with dark blue sheets, a soft pale blue blanket, and the blue and white patchwork quilt that Ronan's mother had made, long ago, patterned like the ocean. He'd arranged to hang draperies from the hooks in the ceiling, offering a canopy above the bed to protect it, and drapes all around for privacy and warmth. Soft rugs carpeted the loft floor, and a tea service was waiting, still hot, on the little table. Only Adam's cot looked out of place, tucked into the corner with white sheets and dark green blankets. It looked cozy, and Adam was excited to have something so lovely for his own, but it was still ill-fitting and disappointing by comparison to what he'd prepared for Ronan.