

Lila's block tower crashed. "My storm is roaring!" she yelled, fists tight. She stomped. Luka knelt nearby. "I see big feelings," he said softly. "Want help sailing through the storm?"

"Let's breathe like whales," Luka said. "In through nose, slow, then whoooo out." Lila tried. Her belly puffed like a sail. "Again?" he asked. "Again," she nodded, shoulders loosening.

"Name it," Luka said. "Anger," Lila whispered. "Hot, like lightning." Luka handed a squishy pillow. "Squeeze the thunder, not people." She squeezed, breathed, and tapped counting fingers: one, two, three, four.

The storm quieted. "I feel steadier," Lila said. Together they rebuilt, slower, breathing. A block wobbled; she paused, counted, and adjusted. "You steered your storm," Luka smiled. "I did," Lila grinned.