The estate was silent on the first day of the new year.

There were no meetings, no schedules, no reports demanding immediate attention. The twins had slept late, worn out from the fireworks and the excitement of staying up past midnight. When they finally wandered downstairs, they were in their pajamas—Lily’s with the rabbits, Leo’s with the stars—and neither of them seemed inclined to change.

Arianne had made coffee and toast and nothing else. The reports from Rochefort Group were in her study, stacked neatly on the corner of her desk. She’d glanced at them when she passed the door that morning. She’d kept walking.

Now she was on the couch in the sitting room, her feet tucked up beside her, a cup of coffee cooling on the side table. The twins had dragged the air mattress from the storage closet and set it before the television, covering it with every blanket and pillow they could find. An animated film was playing—something with a talking rabbit and a nervous turtle, the twins’ current favorite. They’d seen it four times. They were watching it a fifth.

Franz sat beside her. Her feet were in his lap, and he was massaging them—his thumbs pressing into the arch of her left foot, working out the lingering ache from the heels she’d worn the night before. He hadn’t asked if she wanted a foot massage. He’d just lifted her feet into his lap twenty minutes ago and started.

"You don’t have to do that," she’d said.

"I know."

She hadn’t argued further.

The film reached a musical number. A rabbit sang about perseverance while a turtle provided comic relief. Lily was mouthing the words—she’d seen it enough times to know them by heart. Leo was watching with the Lion in his lap, the whale nearby on the mattress, his tablet propped against a pillow in case he needed it.

Halfway through the song, Lily turned around to face the couch.

"Can we have a pet?"

Franz’s hands paused on Arianne’s feet. "A pet?"

"Like Galileo. Miss Chen’s hamster. He’s very soft and he runs on his wheel, except when he doesn’t, because sometimes he’s lazy." Lily had been mentioning the hamster more frequently in recent weeks. "Leo and I have been discussing it."

"Discussing it," Franz repeated.

"Extensively."

He glanced at Arianne. She raised an eyebrow but said nothing. This was clearly a conversation the twins had been preparing for.

"What kind of pet did you have in mind?" Franz asked.

Lily turned to Leo. "You first."

Leo reached for his tablet. He typed quickly, then held it up: DOG. LIKE ASH.

"Ash is the dog from the northern trip," Lily explained, though no explanation was needed. "The one who pulled the sled. He was very strong and very fluffy. Leo liked him."

"I remember Ash," Franz said.

"Leo wants a dog like Ash. But I told him Ash is too big for our house. He might bump into everything. Remember how he pulled the sled? He was huge."

Leo typed again: ASH WAS GOOD DOG.

"Ash was a very good dog," Franz agreed. "But Lily has a point about the size. What about you? What kind of pet do you want?"

Lily hesitated. This was clearly a question she’d given considerable thought. 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝙚𝙬𝓮𝙗𝒏𝙤𝒗𝙚𝙡.𝒄𝒐𝓶

"I was thinking about a hamster first. Because of Galileo. But then I read that hamsters can die from heart attacks if they get shocked. Like if someone sneezes too loud or drops a book. That’s too sad. I don’t want a pet that can die from sneezes."

"That seems reasonable."

"Then I thought about a pig. A small one. I would name him Chris P. Bacon."

Franz laughed. The sound was surprised and genuine. "Where did you hear that name?"

"I read it somewhere. It’s a very good name for a pig. But I don’t think Aunt Aria would want a pig in the house. Pigs need mud and outdoor spaces and they get very big even when they’re supposed to be small. That’s what the article said."

"You researched this."

"I always research things before I ask for them. That way I know if it’s a good idea or a bad idea before I waste anyone’s time."

Franz looked at Arianne again. This time she spoke.

"I don’t mind having a pet." Her voice was calm, even. "But you should understand that having a pet is a big responsibility. Pets need to be fed every day. They need to be walked, if they’re dogs. They need to be groomed. They need someone to clean up after them. It’s not something you can do for a few days and then forget about. Are you ready for that?"

Lily and Leo exchanged a look. Neither answered immediately.

"There’s one more thing," Arianne added. "Whatever pet you choose, it needs to be something that won’t pose a threat to the baby. Once the baby is born. No animals that might be aggressive or territorial around infants."

Lily absorbed this. "So nothing that bites."

"Nothing that bites. Nothing that might knock a baby over. Nothing that needs more attention than we can give it while also taking care of a newborn."

"That makes sense." Lily turned to Leo. They began discussing in low voices, Lily whispering while Leo typed responses on his tablet and showed her the screen. The film continued playing behind them, the rabbit now learning an important lesson about friendship, but neither twin was watching anymore.

Arianne could hear fragments of their conversation.

"What about a rabbit?" Lily was saying. "Rabbits are quiet. They don’t need walks." Leo typed something she couldn’t see. "That’s true," Lily replied. "They do chew on things. That could be a problem."

Franz stopped massaging her feet. He moved on the couch, drawing her against him, his arm wrapping around her shoulders. She let herself lean into him, her head resting against his chest.

"It’s good that you reminded them about the responsibility," he said, under the noise of the film and the twins’ ongoing negotiation.

"I expected them to ask eventually. Ever since the northern trip. Leo’s been talking about Ash for weeks."

"Do you think they’re ready?"

"Not yet. Maybe when they’re a little older. When they can handle the daily commitment without being reminded. When the baby is old enough that we don’t have to worry about compatibility." She paused. "Lily’s doing the research, which is good. Leo’s thinking about what he actually wants, not just what sounds exciting. But wanting a pet and being ready for one are different things."

Franz nodded. His chin brushed the top of her head. "When they’re older, then."

"Probably."

He pressed a kiss to her temple. His arm tightened around her, and she let her eyes close, the sounds of the film and the twins’ low debate washing over her.

On the air mattress, Lily had apparently moved on from rabbits.

"What about a cat? Cats are independent. They don’t need as much attention as dogs. And they’re small enough that they wouldn’t knock a baby over."

Leo typed something. Lily read it. "That’s true. Cats do scratch things. But maybe we could train it not to. Miss Chen says animals can be trained if you’re patient."

Leo typed again. Lily sighed. "Fine. We’ll keep thinking."

The film reached its climax: the rabbit achieved its goal, the turtle learned to be brave. The credits began to roll, and Lily immediately started the film over from the beginning.

"We’re watching it again?" Franz asked.

"It’s a classic," Lily said without turning around.

"It’s the fifth time."

"Some things get better with repetition."

Franz laughed under his breath. Arianne didn’t open her eyes, but the corner of her mouth curved upward.

Morning stretched on. The film played. Outside, the new year sunlight fell through the windows, pale and golden. Arianne stayed where she was, tucked against her husband’s side, her feet warm from his hands, her reports waiting in her study where they would continue to wait.

Tomorrow, she would work. Tomorrow, the year would begin in earnest. But today was for this: the hush of the house, the film, the children’s voices, the weight of Franz’s arm around her shoulders.

Today was for rest.