“Yeah. Just finished with the animals. Gale’s downstairs with Maddie.”
I frown, trying to sit up, but the movement sends a sharp ache through my ribs, making me wince.
“I didn’t know she was here.”
“She and Ledge got in early this morning.” His fingers trail down my cheek, his touch lingering. “Didn’t want to wake you.”
I shouldn’t be surprised Ledger and Gale are here. They promised to give us a hand while I’m recovering. Atlas too, but it still catches me off guard.
Hopper’s family has been circling in closer, drawn together by everything that’s happened, by the threat still hanging over us. Even Malerick and Atlas have put their constant bickering on hold long enough to work together—though barely.
Now Ledge and Atlas are a different story. I’ve seen the way Atlas watches Ledger, his jaw tight, his hands shoved into his pockets like he’s forcing himself to stay quiet. Ledger, on the other hand, makes no effort to hide his irritation.
One day they’ll be able to become friends, hopefully brothers.
“Think those two are ever gonna stop pretending they hate each other?” I murmur.
Hopper huffs out a quiet laugh, rubbing his palm over his jaw.
“I doubt it.”
I don’t want to stay in bed all day, but Hopper has other plans.
The second I try to move, he scoops me up like it’s nothing, his arms locking around me before I can even protest.
I yelp, swatting his shoulder. “Hopper!”
“Doctor’s orders,” he says, smirking as he carries me toward the door. “No unnecessary movement.”
“You’re ridiculous.”
“Not as ridiculous as you thinking I’d let you walk down those stairs alone.”
I want to argue, but then the smell of coffee and vanilla hits me, warm and sweet, pulling me in like a siren call.
The kitchen is filled with light, with the sounds of conversation and clinking dishes.
And there, right in the middle of it all, is Maddie, perched on Ledger’s lap, happily munching on a piece of toast, her curls bouncing as she chatters about something only she finds important.
Something in my chest pulls tight, a quiet ache, something raw and unspoken.
This is what it feels like to be home.
Epilogue
Hopper
The morning air is crisp, carrying the scent of damp earth, fresh hay, and the last whispers of summer fading into fall. The sky is shifting, trading deep blue for golden pink, the first streaks of sunlight stretching across the fields like a promise.
I step out onto the wraparound porch, coffee in one hand, the other braced on the railing as I take in everything we’ve built.
And for the first time in longer than I can remember, I let myself breathe.
Let myself be happy.
It’s been three months since everything settled. Since Nysa came home after I almost lost her.
Three months since we started building something real. Something ours.
