Page 29 of Finn's Future

Lucy looked towards the ceiling. “You two better not be breaking that changing table!”

A head immediately appeared over the upstairs landing. “We’re not!”

Another loud bang echoed through the house.

Lucy narrowed her eyes. “That did not sound reassuring.”

I bit down hard on a laugh while Noah blinked sleepily against my shoulder.

Maria headed for the stairs first. “Move,” she called upward. “Before you idiots accidentally build a catapult instead.”

“That happened one time,” somebody muttered.

Lucy looked horrified. “What do you mean one time?”

Neither prospect answered.

By the time we reached Finn’s room, both men were crouched around the half-built changing station surrounded by screws, wooden panels, and pure frustration.

The taller prospect looked up immediately. “We almost got it.”

Lucy stared at the drawer hanging crookedly from the frame.

“No,” she said calmly. “You really don’t.”

The second prospect pointed accusingly at the instructions. “This thing’s defective.”

Maria grabbed the booklet from his hand and turned it around.

“It was upside down.”

The room went completely silent, then Lucy burst out laughing. “Oh my God. Finn’s gonna yell at you both for this forever.”

“We built the cot fine,” the taller one defended.

“That’s because the cot had six pieces,” Maria replied dryly.

Noah made a sleepy little sound against my chest, and both prospects immediately lowered their voices.

That surprised me. Lucy noticed too because her expression softened briefly before she pointed towards the scattered screws.

“Fix it before Finn gets back,” she ordered. “Or I’m telling Reaper you nearly crushed his nephew under Swedish flat-pack.”

“That feels dramatic,” one muttered.

Lucy raised an eyebrow. “Try me.”

Both prospects immediately went back to work.

Maria smirked beside me. “See? Trainable.”

Eventually, the changing station passed Maria and Lucy’s inspection and the prospects escaped before they got assigned another job.

After they left, the house slowly settled back into quiet.

An hour passed.

Then another.