Grace was driving with Alix in the passenger seat and following Sylvia’s van when she registered just how unexpectedly disastrous Alix’s first encounter with her family had gone. At her side, Alix looked like she’d never been more amused at having witnessed an actual circus.
Grace might’ve laughed. But then she remembered whose house they were driving toward.
Chapter Eight
ALIX
Sylvia’s van was a beast,plastered in national park stickers with a peeling decal that readI Brake for Mushrooms. Grace followed behind like she was bracing for impact, hands tight on the wheel. Alix, sprawled in the passenger seat, grinned. “Your aunt drives like she’s auditioning forFast & Furious: Miami Edition.”
“The second one took place in Miami,” Grace commented idly.
Alix shook her head. “Then maybethat’swhere she learned these moves.”
Grace muttered something about traffic safety, but Alix only smirked.
She watched Grace as she drove, thoroughly entranced by the woman beside her. Alix had seen her face a hundred times on video calls, pixelated and flattened, but the real thing knocked her off balance. Grace was all warm tones and sharp lines, eyes like they’d been carved with intention, mouth too expressive for someone trying to act chill. She was downright stunning, and Alix had been trying not to stare all afternoon.
It took Alix a full beat to remember how to move her own face.
The coral stucco bungalow sat under a mango tree that looked ready to crush the roof. The yard was just as chaotic as Aunt Sylvia’s first impression: a rusted bike reborn as a succulent planter, a concrete pelican draped in Mardi Gras beads, a sign painted in bold letters — WELCOME (UNLESS YOU VOTED FOR HIM).
“Is your aunt secretly the best?” Alix asked. “Should we try to matchmake her with Phyllis?”
“She’s really something.” Grace snorted in amusement, but didn’t outright say no. “Um, just to let you know, don’t... touch anything inside.”
“What’s that mean?” Alix asked, already climbing from the car.
It all made sense once the door opened.
“Mi casa es su museo,” Sylvia declared, sweeping them in. She wasn’t kidding. Every wall and shelf groaned with collections: ceramic frogs, miniature typewriters, cruise ship plates, snow globes gone cloudy with age. A shadowbox labeled ROCKS THAT LOOK LIKE OTHER THINGS made Alix beam.
“This one looks like a potato. This one looks like Florida. It’s coral,” Sylvia stated proudly as she saw Alix inspecting the box. “From the Keys. Don’t tell the government.”
Alix loved her instantly.
As they walked through the house, she followed Grace, watching Grace’s hand brush the doorframe in passing, fingertips trailing along the wood. For some reason, Alix felt it like static.
Baby pinballed around their legs like a sugar-high toddler. In the kitchen, an altar of probiotic powders — GutGlow, HappyTummy, RegularPup — lined the counter. The freezer,Sylvia assured them, was stocked with emergency empanadas. “Grace, I know you’re healthy. You too?”
Alix glanced toward the freezer. “I try to eat my veggies.”
“Tia, Alix is vegan,” Grace said impatiently.
“Vegan, hmm?” Sylvia eyed Alix. “Ah, that reminds me. I do have some vegan brownies somewhere around here.” She waved toward the cluttered counters.
“Vegan brownies? I can’t wait to check those out,” Alix said politely.
“Good girl.” Sylvia patted her arm.
Alix exaggerated a swoon behind Sylvia’s back, making Grace smile.
The guest room nearly finished them. A queen-sized bed covered in flamingo sheets dominated the space. Atop the dresser, a porcelain doll in a sealed acrylic case watched with soulless eyes.
“Fresh sheets,” Sylvia said. “Do not touch the doll.”
“Why is the doll in a tube?” Alix whispered.
“Because she is haunted.” Sylvia stated flatly. “Found her in Ocala.”
