Rogue is quick to put their nest in order. She ships Remy off several times a day with a new list of chairs or curtains or sheets or dishes—"Never mind. I want to pick those myself."—or tables or books or throws or pillows to buy and bring back and "Help me move this," and "Sugar, help me up."

Remy laughs and hoists her up in his arms so she can fuss over the plant in a soffet.

"Why not just buy a ladder?" he asks.

She spares a moment to glare at him, then hands him another list.