In the kitchen, Beau has taken over breakfast without asking. He moves through the space opening drawers. Eggs crack cleanly against the counter. Butter melts.
Naomi leans against the counter, watching him with mild curiosity. “You’re actually good at that.”
He glances back briefly. “I have layers.”
She hums. “It smells good.”
“I will accept the compliment.”
From the table, Travis looks up from the laptop. “Since when do you cook?”
Beau slides the spatula under the eggs and flips them neatly. “Since I learned that food is a useful bargaining tool.”
Naomi smiles. “That explains a lot.”
Travis watches for a second longer than necessary, “You know he kills people for a living, right?”
Naomi freezes. Her head snaps toward Beau. “I’m sorry, what?”
Beau doesn’t even look up. “Only on days that end in Y.”
Naomi stares at Beau for another beat, then lets out a slow breath. “I thought you were just… helpful.”
“I am helpful,” Beau says. “The other thing is a separate skill set.”
Travis shakes his head and goes back to the laptop. “Who do you think you are? Liam Neeson. This isn’t Taken.”
Beau scoffs, “I’m way more efficient of a killer than he was in that movie.”
Naomi pours herself coffee, still looking at Beau like she’s recalibrating her understanding of reality. “I’m going to pretend none of this was said.”
“Healthy coping mechanism,” Beau replies. “Highly recommend.”
I watch the exchange and finally see it for what it is. Beau isn’t flirting because he wants Naomi. He is flirting because Travis notices. Beau enjoys the reaction more than anything. Chaos with intention. Loyalty buried under provocation.
I carry my mug into the living room and sit beside Seth on the couch. He shifts just enough to make room, his arm resting along the back cushion behind me.
He looks down at me. “You okay?”
“Yeah.”
Elise finishes her sketch and sets the pad on the table without a word. She doesn’t look at anyone when she stands. She just walks down the hall, shoulders squared, carrying something she doesn’t want inspected.
Ryan follows a minute later. He pauses by Travis’s chair, “Can I try the other thing later? The one you showed me.”
Travis looks up, surprised. “Yeah. Whenever you want.”
Ryan nods once and disappears after his sister.
The room settles. I lean over and reach for the sketchpad. I turn to the last page.
Elise. Ryan. Samantha.
All three of them are together. Elise is leaning into her mother’s side. Ryan is half asleep against her shoulder. Samantha’s hand rests over both their backs. Like nothing bad has ever happened. Like nothing ever will.
My throat tightens until it hurts.
I close the sketchpad and set it back on the table. The drawing stays where it belongs, untouched. If anything in this house deserves to survive what comes next, it is that.
