For a few seconds he stayed lying there, staring at the ceiling. The room was still half-dark. A dull gray light was slipping in through the crack in the curtain. Beside him, Anna was asleep on her side, one hand tucked under the pillow, like a child who never fully trusts sleep. Stefanos turned his head a little toward the nightstand. His phone read 5:47.

He smiled without reason. Or rather for one very specific reason.

Forty-seven