Kaz Brekker

They find a rhythm. Two babies means there's always something to be done, something that needs to be happening and, gradually, they figure it out. For the first time in his life, Kaz trusts other people with his businesses so that he can stay home with his wife, his children. His family. Maybe a time will come when thinking that word doesn't feel like somebody has suddenly kicked him in the breastbone.

Inej is sleeping. There's laundry running, bottle sterilsing and both of the children are quiet but alert in their bassinets. The alertness might last, the quiet probably won't. Kaz knows that it's a while until their eyes start to focus, but, sometimes, he could swear that they're watching the world go by.

When the doorbell rings, he buzzes Marcus up and leaves the front door of the apartment ajar, going back into the kitchen.

"We're through here," he calls, when he hears boots at the threshold.