Franz’s room was quiet.

Arianne had never spent much time in it. The bed had a dark cover, pulled smooth. A book on the nightstand — something with a cracked spine, read more than once. The window looked out over the east lawn, the trees black against the darker sky. It was neat without being cold. Lived in without being messy.

Lily clung to her neck. Her face was still blotchy, her eyelids swollen. She hadn’t stopped trembling. The lion’s torn arm was no longer in her hand — she’d dropped it somewhere, on the floor of the twins’ room, or maybe Franz had picked it up. Arianne couldn’t remember. The last ten minutes had blurred.

She settled Lily on the bed. The cover was cool under her hand. Lily’s fingers stayed hooked into her sleeve.

"Aunt Aria."

"I’m here."

"Does Leo hate me now?"

The question was small. Barely a whisper.

"No," Arianne said. "He doesn’t hate you."

"He pushed me." Lily’s voice cracked. "He’s never pushed me before. Never. We fight but he never — "

She couldn’t finish. The push was still happening to her, over and over, the shock of it replaying behind her eyes.

"He was angry," Arianne said. "That doesn’t mean he hates you."

"I broke the lion."

"Yes."

"I didn’t mean to." Lily’s breath hitched. "I just wanted him to put it back. It was dirty and old and he hasn’t used it since — since — "

She stopped. Arianne waited.

"Since Mommy and Daddy died."

The words came out in a rush, like she’d been holding those too.

"I know the lion is special. I know Daddy gave it to him. When we were born. Leo’s had it his whole life. I know that. I wasn’t trying to be mean. I was trying to fix things. The bed was crowded and the lion needed a bath and he wouldn’t listen. He never doesn’t listen. He always listens. But tonight he wouldn’t, and I didn’t know what to do, so I tried to take it, and then it broke, and then he pushed me."

She was crying again. Not the shocked sobs from before — something quieter, more desperate.

"I wasn’t trying to be mean," she said again.

Arianne pulled her close. Lily’s head tucked under her chin, her small body curling against Arianne’s chest.

"You weren’t trying to be mean," Arianne said. "But you weren’t listening either."

Lily went still.

"You decided the lion didn’t belong on the bed. You decided it was too old, too dirty. You decided what Leo needed without asking him what he wanted."

"He wouldn’t talk to me."

"He was talking. Just not the way you wanted him to. You heard him. You just didn’t agree."

Lily didn’t answer. Her fingers twisted in the sleeve of Arianne’s shirt.

"Lily. Look at me."

Lily tilted her head up. Her eyes were red-rimmed, her lashes wet.

"Leo gets to decide about his own things. Even if you think you know better. Even if you’re right about the bath or the space or any of it. It’s his lion. It was his choice. You took that from him."

"I was trying to help."

"I know. But helping isn’t the same as deciding for him."

Lily’s face crumpled again. But she didn’t look away. 𝘧𝘳𝘦ℯ𝓌𝘦𝒷𝘯𝑜𝑣𝘦𝓁.𝒸𝘰𝓂

"I’m the big sister. I’m supposed to look after him."

"You are. But looking after someone doesn’t mean telling them what to do all the time. It means listening. Even when they’re not saying things the way you want them to. Even when they’re quiet."

Arianne smoothed Lily’s hair back from her forehead. The gesture was slow. Familiar.

"I’m an elder sister too. I know what it’s like. You want to protect them. You want to keep things in order. You think if you can just make everything run the way it should, everyone will be okay."

Lily nodded. Small.

"But they get to have their own feelings. Their own things. Their own reasons. And if you don’t listen to those — if you just push through because you think you’re right — you hurt them. Even when you don’t mean to."

Lily was quiet for a long moment. Her tears had slowed. The trembling had eased.

"Am I going to lose him?"

The question landed in the quiet room. Not is he mad at me. Not will he forgive me. Something deeper. The thing that had lived in Lily since the night someone told her Mommy and Daddy weren’t coming home.

Arianne pulled her tighter.

"No."

"But I broke his lion. The lion Daddy gave him. What if he can’t forgive me? What if he doesn’t want me anymore?"

"Leo loves you. He’s loved you his whole life. That doesn’t go away because of one fight. It doesn’t go away because the lion is broken. He was angry. Anger isn’t the same as not loving."

Lily’s voice was barely audible. "You promise?"

"I promise. He’s your brother. You’re his sister. That’s not going to change."

"But what if — "

"Lily. Siblings fight. It’s normal. They get angry at each other. They say things they don’t mean. They push. And then they forgive each other. That’s how it works. Leo won’t hate you forever. He probably doesn’t hate you now."

Lily searched her face. Whatever she found there, it seemed to be enough.

"I’ll listen more. I’ll try. I won’t just decide things for him."

"That’s all anyone can ask."

"And the lion." Lily’s voice wobbled. "The lion is still broken."

"I know." Arianne brushed a strand of hair from Lily’s cheek. "Uncle Franz and I will see what we can do. We’ll try to fix it."

Lily nodded. Her eyes were heavy now, the exhaustion finally winning. Her hand loosened on Arianne’s sleeve. Her breathing slowed.

"Okay," she whispered.

She was asleep before Arianne could answer.

The hallway was dark.

Arianne pulled the door to Franz’s room closed behind her, leaving it cracked so she could hear if Lily called out. The house was quiet. The hours had stacked on top of each other and now it was late, and the dark pressed against the windows, and she was tired in a way that went past sleep.

The twins’ door was still open.

She stepped inside. The lamp was still on low, the yellow shade casting its warm circle. The bed was a mess of blankets — Lily’s side empty, her dolls still arranged against the pillow. Petal. The rabbit. The bear. Waiting for her to come back.

Leo was asleep.

He lay on his side of the bed, the whale tucked against his chest, the blue fabric soft and worn. His face was still flushed. There were tracks on his cheeks where tears had dried. His breathing was deep and even now, the kind of breathing that came after a storm had passed.

The broken lion was on the nightstand.

Someone had placed it there — Franz. The body and the torn arm set beside each other, neat, like they were waiting. The stuffing was still visible at the shoulder, white against the dull brown fur.

Franz stepped out from the corner near the window. He’d been standing in the shadows, watching over Leo.

He crossed to her. They stood together in the doorway, looking at Leo asleep, the whale under his arm, the broken lion on the nightstand between them.

"It took a while," Franz said quietly. "He was shaking for a long time before he could breathe normally."

Arianne nodded.

"I talked to him. About pushing. About not hurting. About finding me or Aunt Aria when he’s that angry instead of using his hands." Franz paused. "He listened. I don’t know how much he understood. But he calmed down."

"Is he okay?"

"I think so. He cried until he couldn’t anymore. Then he asked for the lion." Franz looked at the nightstand. "Not to hold. Just to have near. I told him we’d try to fix it."

"I told Lily the same thing."

Franz exhaled. "This is the first real fight they’ve had. The first time it’s been like this."

"I know."

Arianne told him what Lily had said. The fear. Am I going to lose Leo? The lion confirmed — given to Leo by Alex on the day the twins were born. His companion since infancy.

Franz was quiet. Then: "She said that? That she might lose him?"

"Yes."

"She’s four."

"I know."

He looked at Leo. The whale. The dried tear tracks. The slow rise and fall of his chest.

"The grief had to surface somehow. I just didn’t think it would be tonight. Not like this."

"I’ll ask Gio in the morning. Someone who restores old things. Toys. Someone who can mend it properly."

Franz nodded. Then he looked at her.

"You should sleep. Take my room. I’ll stay here with Leo."

Arianne stepped forward. She cupped his face in both hands. His jaw was rough with stubble. His eyes were tired. She kissed him — not hard, not urgent, just present.

"You don’t have to shoulder everything because you’re their father’s brother. That’s not how this works."

He didn’t answer. But his hand came up and covered hers, pressing her palm against his cheek.

She pulled back. Looked at him.

"I don’t mind the long days. Or the hard nights. You don’t have to carry them alone."

He held her gaze. Something in his face shifted.

"Okay," he said.

She dropped her hands. He stayed where he was. The lamp hummed on the nightstand. Leo slept on, the whale still tucked against him.

"Goodnight," she said.

"Goodnight."

She walked down the hall to Franz’s room. Lily was a small shape under the dark covers, her breathing deep and even. Arianne slipped in beside her. Lily stirred, rolled toward her, one small hand finding Arianne’s arm and holding on.

Arianne closed her eyes.

The house settled. The wind moved through the trees outside. The broken lion waited on the nightstand in the room down the hall, its arm beside it, its stuffing white and patient.

Two rooms. Two children. Two adults watching over them.

The long day ended.