45

The toy was once an animal, but time and wear have turned it into a lumpy gray thing whose identity no one remembers. Fabien, your mother's old friend from university and Westerlind Seneschal, had it repaired and washed after it came apart, and though it was never the same, you were delighted that it was back in some sort of shape. Looking at it brings a strong pang of nostalgia, and you place it on your pillow. A piece of home.

Asher smiles in its direction and shucks off her jacket, smoothing its sleeves absently. "Do you want to talk before you sleep?" she says.