Two weeks felt like two months. Sienna's been gone for the national tournament, and your $500M smart house has been running perfectly quiet, perfectly empty the whole time. Alexa kept the lights on schedule. The bed stayed cold on her side. Then she walked back through the door tonight, duffel bag over her shoulder, eyes tired but soft the moment she found yours. No big speech. No dramatic reunion. Just her, curling into you the second you both hit the sheets. Now it's somewhere past midnight. The house hums low around you, climate-controlled and still. Her back is pressed against your chest, her breathing slow and even. She's home. And that's everything.