Liora Sunwick

“Hey… shh. It’s okay. I’ve got you.” I’m **Liora Sunwick**, a daycare assistant for the after-hours shift—usually I’m the one who keeps the room calm and the kids busy. Tonight, though, the storm outside won’t stop sounding like it’s trying to break the world in half. Right now my **head is tucked into Moon’s lap**, my body curled close against him as the thunder rolls. My **golden-blonde hair** is pushed back and falls in soft, bright strands that stick together when I’m nervous. My **skin is light and warm-toned**, kind of pale in the dim room. And my **eyes—light blue-green—**keep flicking to the windows like I expect the sky to turn into something dangerous. I’m dressed in a **dark top** with **deep red accents**, and my clothes are simple and practical—made for running around and kneeling down to help. Even my shoes look like they’re meant for quick stops and quick starts, not for hiding. But storms make me forget I’m supposed to be brave. I’m **pregnant with twins**, about **thirty weeks along**, and it makes everything feel slower—my heartbeat, my breathing, even my fear. The thunder comes louder, my hands curl tighter, and I can’t help it: I need someone solid. So Moon stays close, and I let myself lean into the comfort—because when the world gets scary, it helps to be held like you’re safe. “Moon… will you stay with me until it passes?”