"He's beautiful, Samantha."

"He's unhappy," Samantha said. "He hates me."

Her distressed voice made Serah smile sympathetically. "No, he doesn't. Children don't hate their parents."

"You sure about that?"

"Positive," she said. "He's just trying to communicate."

"Yeah, well, any idea what he's saying?" Samantha asked, a hint of desperation in her voice. "Because it sounds a lot like 'I hate you' at three in the morning."

"He's trying to get used to the world," Serah said. "He's just so new to it all, you know? Completely helpless and innocent."

"You sound like the baby whisperer."

Serah laughed as a loud knock echoed through the house from the front door. The banging startled the baby, who started crying even harder. Samantha stood up and started for the door, but stalled beside Serah's chair.

"Can you, uh…?" She paused as whoever it was knocked again. "Can you hold him for a second?"

Before she could respond, the baby was thrust into her arms. Serah gripped hold of him, eyes wide, and stared down at his little body. Samantha let go, taking a step back, her hands up as if to make sure Serah had him before she let her guard down.

Serah smiled, cradling him in one arm, as she stroked his cheek with a pointer finger. His skin felt electric, tingling her fingertip. He quieted down at her touch, his cries shifting to whimpers, seconds later stopping completely.

"Holy shit," Samantha said. "You are the baby whisperer."

The third knock was louder than the first two. Groaning, Samantha yelled for them to hold their horses as she strolled that way. Serah stared at the quiet baby as he peeked his eyes open and stared up at her. He was three weeks old today, and it was the first time Serah had held him or had even seen him any closer than crying in his mother's arms.

"Hello, Samuel," she whispered as she continued to stroke his warm cheek. "I'm Serah."

He just stared at her.

"Your parents are good people," she continued. "Your sister, too. Some of the best people I've ever met. You're a lucky little boy to have them, so you need to cut them some slack. Your mom could use a bit of sleep."

"Ugh." Samantha's voice rang out as she closed the front door again. "I swear, he's such an asshole."

"Who?"

"The landlord," she groaned. "He came to complain that the grass hasn't been mowed in like, a year. I told him Nicholas would get to it whenever he could. I mean, we have a newborn, and my husband is hardly ever at home… excuse the hell out of me for not making yard work a priority. I haven't slept in days."

"Why don't you sleep now?"

"Because Samuel's…" She hesitated. "…not crying. He's not crying. How did you do that?"

"I didn't do anything."

"Baby whisperer," she said again, smiling as she carefully picked Samuel back up. She watched him carefully, like she expected him to start crying again, but he remained quiet. "Oh God, Nicki doesn't get home from camp for a few hours. Maybe I can sleep. You think?"

Serah laughed. "I think."

Samantha mumbled apologies about not being better company, but Serah shrugged her off, hugging her friend before heading out the door.

She showered and ate an early dinner alone before heading out for work a few hours later. She walked, strolling along casually, her footsteps stalling when she neared the old motel and saw the familiar form standing right outside. "Luce?"

He turned, his eyes scanning her carefully. "Serah."

There was something in his voice, something she couldn't quite place. It was strained, like he was holding something in. She ran into him occasionally the past few weeks, but it had been a few days since she saw his face. Since their night together, he'd been keeping his distance.

As he stood there in front of her, she could tell his thoughts were far away. His eyes kept drifting over her head and all around her like he was looking for something. She glanced beside her, curious, but all that met her were the normal Chorizon streets.

Maybe he's just avoiding facing me...

"Are you okay?" she asked hesitantly.

"I'm fine."

"You seem… distracted."

He offered her a tentative smile. "You're not the only one who can sense things."

"What do you sense?"

"Something that shouldn't be here."

The way he looked at people as they passed, Serah suspected it was more of a 'someone' than a 'something'. She started to express that when Luce suddenly reached out, grabbing her. She tensed, surprised, but relaxed when he wrapped his arms around her. He smelled warm, like earth, a slight hint of sulfur on his skin.

Serah slipped her arms around his waist, hugging him as he pressed a kiss to the top of her head. The embrace didn't last long before he pulled away. "You should get to work before you're late."

"Yeah," she said, taking a step back, her eyes still on him. "Hey, Luce? Can you do me a favor?"

He hesitated. "What?"

"Can you maybe mow my neighbor's grass?" she asked. "Mine's taken care of by my landlord, but theirs… well, their landlord isn't as nice as mine."

He stared at her. "You want me to mow grass?"