Page 176 of Dream On, Liar

“Yes.”

A pause. I tilted my head slightly. “Because the toast is black.”

Her eyes flicked to the toaster again. “…That’s intentional.”

“You trying to kill me, trouble?”

“Yes.”

“I thought we had a deal.”

She hesitated. Just for a second. “Fine. Maybe, it’s there to add character.”

I laughed—I couldn’t help it. It spilled out before I could stop it.

And the moment I did, something in her face softened.

Just slightly.

Like she’d been bracing for criticism and instead got something else entirely.

She smiled despite herself.

“Sit down,” she ordered.

“No.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re standing there trying to kill breakfast, and I’m hungry.”

She pointed a spatula at me. It was slightly threatening. Mostly comedic.

“Sit,” she repeated.

I raised both hands in surrender. “Fine.”

I sat at the kitchen island, tucking my hand under my chin and watched her.

Let the moment exist without interrupting it. A few minutes later, she placed a plate in front of me.

Eggs. Toast. Fruit.

I stared at it, then at her.

And something in my chest loosened at the sound.

Because that was the thing. The way she easily moved around me each morning, trying her best to make me feel…safe. I’d noticed it yesterday when she’d started helping me clean my Ma’s room slowly. The way she’d give me the space I needed to process everything, and still was by my side when she’d noticed something tugged at me more stronger than I’d expected.

Maeve

THE STRANGE THING WAS that he never mentioned it.

Not once.

It should not have mattered. It should not have lodged itself so deeply beneath my skin that I could feel it even in the quietest moments, even when he was nowhere near me. But it did.

Because silence from him had never felt empty. It was deliberate, careful, the kind of silence that meant he was holding something in his hands and choosing not to drop it yet.