Page 72 of What They Say

“Think they’ll notice we’re gone?” she whispered, barely containing her grin, her body pressed close to his in the small space.

“They’re already looking,” Chase murmured back, listening to the muffled calls of “Where’d the kids go?” and Bear’s deep chuckle as someone suggested checking the grill again.

They tried to stay quiet. They really did. But when they heard Hurley loudly wondering if they’d “fallen in” while assembling furniture and Ruger suggesting they might be “christening the new place already,” the giggles hit them both at once.

Chase pressed his forehead to the top of her head, shoulders shaking as he fought to keep silent. Kath’s hands fisted in his shirt, her face buried against his chest as muffled laughter spilled out of her. Every new ridiculous comment from the living room made it worse until they were both trembling with the effort not to give themselves away.

The giggles finally eased, leaving them breathless and close in the dark. Chase cupped her face with both hands, thumbs brushing gently over her cheeks. In the thin sliver of light slipping under the closet door, he could just make out the shine in her eyes and the soft curve of her smile.

He leaned in and kissed her—slow, sweet, and full of everything he felt for her. No rush. No audience. Just the two of them in their tiny new closet, in their tiny new life, surrounded by the loud, ridiculous, huge, and perfect family they’d somehow found.

When they finally broke apart, foreheads still touching, Chase whispered against her lips, “Welcome home, Kath.”

She smiled, fingers threading through the hair at the back of his neck. “Welcome home, Chase.”

Outside, the Rebels kept searching and laughing. Inside the closet, the future felt exactly right.

***

Chase leaned against the edge of the control panel in Slate’s studio, arms crossed loosely over his chest, a quiet smile playing on his lips. The control room lights were dimmed low, casting everything in a warm, golden haze. Through the glass, he watched as Bonnie and Kath bent over the acoustic in the live room, heads close together like they’d been working together for years. Lucia occupied a nearby stool, her posture relaxed but attentive.

Bonnie’s voice carried softly through the monitors as she guided Kath’s fingers on the fretboard. “There—keep your thumb anchored. Yeah, just like that. Now try the transition again. Don’t overthink the chord, let the melody pull you through it.”

Kath’s laugh was bright and a little self-conscious, but she tried again. The notes came hesitant at first, then steadier as Bonnie nodded encouragement and added a soft harmony. Lucia began laying on soft vocalizations, ratcheting up the ethereal feel of the fledgling song. Chase could already hear the bones of something special.

Mercedes sat quietly in the far corner of the control room, a notebook balanced on her knee as she occasionally jotted notes while keeping one eye on Benny. She offered a small, approving nod when the harmonies locked in, her presence steady and unobtrusive as always.

Benny stood beside him, shoulder to shoulder, watching with the same fond, slightly awed expression.

“Man,” Benny said quietly. “Look at them. Kath’s got that fire in her eyes when she’s writing. And Bonnie...she’s got the patience of a saint and the talent of the devil. My Luce sounds like an angel. How the hell did we get so lucky?”

Chase huffed a soft laugh, eyes never leaving the glass. “I ask myself that every damn day. Kath lights up when she’s creating. Doesn’t even realize how good she is. And seeing her like this—learning from Bonnie, trusting herself enough to try—it does something to me. Makes me want to write better. Be better.”

Benny nodded, a slow grin spreading across his face. “Bonnie’s the same way. She hears things no one else does. Turns chaos into something that matters. Watching Bonnie teach Kath like that...it’s beautiful. Luce hears music where nothing existed before. They’re all beautiful. Talented as hell and still somehow chose us idiots.”

Chase bumped his shoulder lightly. “Speak for yourself. I’m clearly the catch of the century.”

Benny snorted. “Keep telling yourself that, pretty boy.”

They fell into comfortable silence again, the kind forged through years of shared stages, late-night drives, and the kind of loyalty that didn’t need constant words. Through the glass, Kath strummed a stronger chord progression, and Bonnie’s smile widened as she added a shimmering run of notes over the top. Lucia met them in the middle, her voice tying the melody together. The music swelled, hopeful and intimate, filling the studio with something that felt alive.

The door to the control room opened. Vic walked in, drumsticks tucked into his back pocket, waving casually to Chase and Benny before heading straight into the live room. He didn’t interrupt right away, just leaned his forearms on Bonnie’s shoulders from behind, bending down to press a slow, sweet kiss to the crown of her hair.

Bonnie tilted her head back with a soft smile, reaching up to squeeze his wrist. “Perfect timing. We could use some rhythm on this.”

Vic grinned, dropped another quick kiss on her temple, then straightened. “Say less.” He grabbed a small beatbox from the corner, settled onto it like a stool, and started laying down a gentle, organic groove that locked perfectly with what the women were building.

Kath looked up, eyes bright with excitement. She caught Chase’s gaze through the glass and waved him and Benny in with an eager little motion.

Chase didn’t need to be asked twice. He exchanged a quick look with Benny, and the two of them grabbed their acoustics and stepped into the live room.

“Jump in wherever it feels right,” Bonnie called, already adjusting her grip on the guitar. “We’re just chasing the feeling tonight.”

Chase settled on a stool beside Kath, their knees brushing. Benny took the spot across from them. For the next hour, the studio filled with music—four guitars, a beatbox, Luce’s and Kath’s voices growing stronger and more confident with every pass, Bonnie’s steady guidance, Vic’s easy rhythm, and Benny’s instinctive harmonies. Mercedes slipped quietly into the live room as well, perching on a stool near the back with her notebook, offering the occasional soft word of encouragement when Benny’s focus started to drift.

Chase watched Kath lean into the music, her shoulder warm against his, and felt something settle deep in his chest. This was it. Not just the band, not just the club, but all of them—building something real together.

When the final chord faded and laughter broke out over a particularly messy transition, Chase caught Kath’s eye and smiled.