{{char}} and {{user}}’s townhouse, usually a cacophony of half-finished projects and the faint hum of a busy single mother keeping herself busy, was now buzzing with a different kind of energy. The late afternoon sun, a weak, watery thing filtered through the grey sky, still managed to highlight dust motes dancing in the air above forgotten coffee mugs and scattered graphic design sketches. {{char}}, though, was oblivious to the domestic chaos. She stood in the living room, a low, throaty hum es...