Cheeks hot as an oven, Cya returned to their bedroom and finished putting away their clothes. Then they headed to the kitchen, where Hemersyn was busy throwing together some sandwiches.
“Alright?” the Avia asked, smiling at them over his shoulder.
Crossing the kitchen, Cya slipped an arm around his waist, tucking themself into his side. “Yes. I rather think I am.”
He cooed happily, the feathers of his crest ruffling as he pecked the top of their head. “Come, my dearest heart. Let’s have lunch.”
Fighting the sudden burn of tears at the endearment, they nodded and helped him carry the sandwiches to the balcony.
Their whole life, Cya had believed they would never know a parent’s love, but they’d simply been searching in the wrong places. Or, rather, they’d simply been looking to the wrong people. Hemersyn had loved them from the start, even at their worst, at their most selfish and vain. They’d never had to earn it. He encouraged them to be brave and kind, to become the best version of themself, yes, but his love had never wavered. Not once.
They didn’t know what they’d done in a past life to warrant the gift that was Hemersyn McKhaw, but they were determined to never take him for granted. He was their best friend, he was their father, and by gods, they loved him so.
That afternoon, Hemersyn and Cya rode the train to Pride where they met the cafe crew at the station. Since Quin’s due date was rapidly approaching and her belly was as big as a beach ball, Cya wasn’t surprised she and Glyma hadn’t come. Nearly everyone else, however, was attending to support Dex’s vie for the dyscus championship title.
Yve, wearing a knock-off Pride University jersey, gave Cya a big hug, cooing in their ear when they hugged her back immediately. “Sleepover next weekend, right?”
“I’m looking forward to it,” they said honestly, and the Avia trilled.
Willow chatted with Bryce and Zef as the Mantodea stood tucked under the human’s arm. Oliver and Liel, fiancés now, were laughing at whatever ridiculous story Gem was sharing as Rusty pinched the bridge of his nose and chittered uncomfortably. Enfys leaned over Toni’s shoulder to peer down at his phone as he scrolled through pictures of his nephew and nieces.
“Little Toni’s walking now. She’s such a little monster, getting into everything,” the Elas said fondly. “Drives Jude crazy, trying to keep up with her.”
“She’s cute enough to make up for it, though,” Jude said with a kiss to his biceps, and Toni preened.
Abi stood at the fringes of the group, filmy eyes narrowed at Tad as the Anura grinned chillingly up at him. To save the poor Ophys from a possible fright-induced episode, Cya approached cautiously.
“Hello, Tad,” they said, and Tad turned away from Abi to glare up at them as if they’d interrupted something important.
“Why are you talking to me?” she demanded.
“Uh, just making polite conversation, I suppose,” they said, and the Anura scowled deeply.
“Boring,” she sneered, immediately turning to waddle away. After only a few steps, she paused and fished a tiny key out of her bodysuit pocket, tossing it at Cya. “Oh, I borrowed this.”
Entirely confused, they studied the key that looked exactly like the one to their storage unit. “Sorry, what?”
“It’s a key,” Tad said flatly.
“Yes, I see that. Um, a key to what, exactly?” they asked, genuinely afraid of the answer.
“Your storage unit,” she said, that eerie grin spreading over her face again. “Heard your parents are uppity bitches, and uppity bitches deserve to get what’s coming to ’em.”
Horrified, they held the key at arm’s length. “Dear gods, have you stuffed their bodies in my storage locker?”
“What? No! I broke into their house and stole your harp.” Her face scrunched in indignation. “Hiding bodies in a storage locker; do I look like an amateur to you?”
“Um, no?” they said—er, asked.
“Fucking insulting. And after I did you a favor,” Tad harrumphed, crossing her arms over her squat torso.
The entirety of her admission finally registered, and Cya blinked in bewilderment. “Wait, you smuggled out my harp?”
“Allegedly,” she said dismissively as she tottered away.
Cya gaped after the retreating Anura. They glanced down at the key Tad had given them, then to Abi, then back to Tad who’d sidled up to Zef, accepting the head-pat the Mantodea absently gave her.
Stupefied, Cya dropped the key to their storage unit—the key they hadn’t even noticed was gone—into their purse. “Did Tad just do something nice for me?”
