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Grace is the only person awake when Bernie trudges down the stairs. Her hair is still pinned up, and she has her robe on, a cup of coffee steaming in one hand, the paper held in the other. Bernie feels like a little girl again, sneaking downstairs early on Christmas morning.

“Morning,” she croaks as she shuffles towards the coffee.

“You’re up early, Bernadine.”

“I couldn’t sleep.”

“Something on your mind?”

“No, Daisy kept kicking me all night.”

Grace laughs. “She does still do that.” She smiles as she watches Bernie fixing her coffee, picking up a couple of cookies for breakfast. “Why did the two of you share last night? I thought you two would like having separate rooms now.”

Bernie hums. “Fell asleep talking, like old times.”

“You two always were attached at the hip. More like twins than anything else.”

She brushes hair back off Bernie’s face, thumb rubbing over her cheek. Before she can settle back into her coffee and paper, Bernie pulls an envelope out of her pocket. 

“This is for you and dad.”

She blinks. “What is it?”

“Just open it,” she says, pushing the envelope across the table.

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