Morning came, sunlight filtering through the cracks in the boarded-up windows. Uncle Lin rose up, his internal clock honed by decades of his work at the restaurant. His daughter Lin followed minutes later, both moving quietly to avoid disturbing their guests.
As they descended the stairs to begin breakfast preparations, Lin's daughter froze mid-step, spotting Ethan sitting cross-legged near the window, eyes alert and scanning the street.
"You're already awake?" she asked, genuinely surprised.
Ethan nodded. "Never really slept."
"Why?" She asked, feeling slightly worried about him.
"Just didn't feel like it." He shrugged, before standing up.
Lin nodded, not pressing on the issue.
"Food will be ready soon."
"Thanks," He nodded.
Ethan rose fluidly, crossing to where Hong Wei was buried under blankets, only a tuft of hair visible. He looked at the boy for a moment, then unceremoniously yanked the blanket away.
