Page 28 of Every Almost

"What does that mean, 'technically alive'?" Reyna asked, confused about what made it technical instead of just alive.

"It means... well... that the house hasopinions, Rey. So, maybe 'technically alive' isn't the right way to say it. Maybe 'alive and opinionated' is a better descriptor."

Reyna stared at Jere with a blank expression. Her eyes moved to Elena, who just looked excited to hear the next words that came out of Jere's mouth. Frankly, so was Reyna.

"Opinions? What exactly could a home have opinions about?" Reyna asked.

"Oh about many things! Most especially about house things, like temperature and airflow. But it can also express opinions about such things as whether someone has been away too long." Jere placed his forearms on the table and leaned closer to them. "When I went home for a visit after being here for first term at Novahall, I'd learned that the front wall of the home had grown a whole new branch in front of my bedroom window." Reyna and Elena looked at one another as Jere sat up straight again. "My mother said the house missed me, but my father said it was just a growth pattern." He grinned. "My mother gave him a look, which made him immediately stop arguing."

"Your mother sounds wonderful," Elena commented. "Anyone who can silence people with just a look earns my complete respect," Elena said.

Jere laughed. "She's five foot two and she once talked a Korveth border patrol into letting her cross a restricted zone by explaining, in detail, the medicinal properties of a plant on the other side. She talked for forty minutes. As much as she believes she was let through because the patrol recognized the necessity of the plant, I firmly believe they let her through just to make her stop talking."

Reyna actually smiled. She could picture how Jere's care-free spirit had to come from somewhere, and a five-foot-two Qorrathi healer who could out-talk a border patrol was exactly the right origin story.

"They supported the animal thing?" Elena asked, leaning forward slightly, chin on her hand and genuinely interested rather than strategically. Reyna could tell the difference by now. And she knew Jere could, too.

"They didn't just support it. They understood it." Jere's voice softened. "My mother felt it first. Being a healer that works with people, she knew before I did. She used to take me to the tide pools when I was small and just... let me listen. She'd sit behind me and just gave me the space to hear them. The gift runs in the family, it just hadn't landed with anyone in a few generations. So what she did was the best thing anyone could have ever done for me. Letting the gift take root and just let me hear them."

The kitchen was quiet. The chef behind the counter moved something around while the kettle clicked on the stove.

"But what about you?" Jere said, turning to Elena. "As soon as you said the name 'Voss,' I knew I was talking to Coalition royalty. What was that like?"

Elena's mouth twitched. "We're not royalty."

"Four generations of highly decorated Coalition officers, Elena. That's not just royalty, its royalty with perfect posture."

"Three generations," she corrected. "My great-grandmother was a cartographer. She mapped trade routes, not battlefields. My grandmother was the first officer, then my mother, and now me." She picked up her drink, her violet markings pulsing their usual rhythm. "It was expected. But it wasn't as though it was the only option. Nobody forced me because, well, nobody needed to. I grew up in briefing rooms and on command decks, and could read a tactical display before I could read a book. When I told my mother I wanted captaincy, she said 'I know.' Just 'I know.' Asif it had already been decided and I was the last person to hear about it."

"Was that... good?" Jere asked.

Elena considered this. "It was complicated. I've never doubted what I wanted. But sometimes, I have wondered if I wanted it because I wanted it, or because wanting it was all I was exposed to as I grew up." She set her drink down. "I think the answer is both, because I think both can be true."

Reyna listened and said nothing. She watched Elena talk about a family that had given her everything she needed, from direction and training to legacy and certainty, and heard the cost buried underneath. The cost of never having to wonder who you were, because someone had decided for you before you were born.

It was the opposite of Reyna's problem. Yet somehow, they both had found themselves in the same spot at the same age. Following the path before them, but wondering if it was what was right for them. Reyna realized it was funny how two very different people with two very different experiences still ended up uncannily alike.

"Rey?" Jere said gently. He was using the voice he used when he had a hunch the topic was sensitive. "What about you?"

Reyna looked at them both for a beat. They'd gone this long without fully speaking about their families. Upbringing, training, merits, those are the things they'd covered since they used them everyday in exercises and theoreticals. But Reyna had been pushing this day off as long as she could. But they'd paid their dues to her. They had convinced her that people that took care of your heart deserved all your truths.

"I don't have one," she said, simply. "I grew up in a children's home on Aurevia. I don't remember my parents at all. I was never told if they died or if they left or if they just simply decided they didn't want me. The home didn't have any of records asidefrom just a certification of my birth from the home office, stating my name, birthdate, and species. All the areas with family information, and even my family name, were either blank or fabricated, not able to trace back anywhere or to anyone."

The kitchen was empty aside from the chef and Reyna was grateful for that. This was only the third time she'd told this story, and two of those times, the listener had immediately said something well-meaning yet useless, convincing Reyna that it was a mistake and regretted telling them.

"Growing up there, I learned to map rooms to avoid trouble of any kind, even if it was just kids playing games," she continued, because they were listening and she found, unexpectedly, that she wanted to keep talking.This was new."I learned to assess people by how they moved, not what they said. I learned that the safest place in any space is the one where you can see trouble coming and have an exit route open and planned before it arrives." She looked up. "That's what I was doing in the mess hall, the night we met. I wasn't being antisocial. I was just... surviving, the only way I ever known how."

Jere didn't say anything right away, but he was looking at her with an expression she'd come to recognize as him feeling something he wasn't trying to hide, because Jere had never in his life tried to hide any feeling.

Elena was the harder to read, remembering how she had mimicked Reyna's actions that first night. And now, her markings didn't fluctuate, but her eyes were softer than Reyna had ever seen them. But it wasn't pity, instead something closer to recognition.

"That explains the exits," Elena said.

"It explains a lot of things," Reyna said. And then, because the vulnerability was starting to weigh her, preparing to put a wall back up before she lost the ability to do so, she continued. "It's fine. I don't need anyone to feel sorry for me. I'm not tellingyou both for sympathy or anything. I'm telling you because you asked and, apparently, I trust you both enough to answer honestly, which is inconvenient and, if it's alright with the two of you, I'd like to stop now."

Jere laughed gently. He reached over and put his hand on top of hers on the table, just resting it there.

"You know you can change your narrative," he said distinctly. "You have one now, a family." Reyna looked at him, her eyebrows pinched together. "Us, you beautiful, stubborn bonehead," Jere replied, his laugh returning. "You're stuck with us."