Page 26 of In Somnis

“Universe, please, be good,” I whisper again, and then knock before I can talk myself out of it.

The door swings open, and a guy stands there, in his twenties maybe, black hair and green eyes, wearing trousers and a simple sweatshirt. Not “mansion staff” at all, but then again, I remember the Vaughns didn’t have staff that looked like staff. Everyone was dressed as if they were one polite smile away from a lifestyle magazine feature.

“Good morning,” he says, pleasantly. “How can I help you?”

“Hi, uh… hi.”

Great start, Lennon. Very eloquent.

“I, um, wanted to ask if… this is still the Vaughns’ house? Right? The Vaughns? I’m Lennon. Lennon Maes. I…” I hate that I’m rambling already, but if I stop talking, I’ll have to feel how insane this is.

That’s the problem with silence. It leaves too much room for the truth to sit down next to you.

“Well… I went to culinary school with Tessa. I spent Christmas break here years ago. A long time, like, really long time. Thirteen years, maybe? Yeah, probably.”

He opens his mouth, brow already furrowing, clearly about to ask a reasonable question, but my nervous system takes that as a threat and launches the emergency babble protocol.

“I remember the house being so pretty. It’s still pretty. Even prettier, honestly. The setting with all the colorful leaves is gorgeous.”

Please stop talking, Lennon. Please.

I clamp my lips shut so hard that my lipstick makes them stick together for the time the guy needs to inhale, looking mildly concerned.

Same, buddy, same.

“Lennon? Can it be?” The voice hits me straight in the heart.

Nora steps into view behind the guy, dressed in a way only wealthy women can manage, elegant without trying. She looks exactly like an older, polished version of her daughter, so much so that it hurts.

“Nora,” I breathe out, and suddenly my hands are wringing themselves. “Please excuse the… ah… ambush? I guess I could have called in advance.”

Stupid, why didn’t I think of that?

She lets out a soft breath through her nose, and for a few pounding heartbeats, we just look at each other. Then she strides past the guy and toward me, pulling me into her arms. She’s tall, like Tessa, and I end up with my face smushed against her chest, enveloped in soft fabric, expensive perfume, and something deeply, achingly familiar. A motherly hug.

Comfort I haven’t felt since—nope.

Not thinking about that right now.

Still, tears prick my eyes, and I have to swallow them back down before they betray me. This isn’t my mom. This isn’t even my house. And yet… right now, it feels like the safest place I’ve stood in days.

Maybe weeks.

Maybe longer.

“It’s so good to see you.” Nora’s cool hands settle on my shoulders as she pulls back just far enough to look me over, head to toe, as if she’s checking for cracks.

I pray my concealer is doing its job because the circles under my eyes feel like neon signs screaming, “I haven’t slept properly in months.”

“It’s so good to see you too,” I manage, and it comes out smaller than I want, practically a whisper.

“What are you doing here, honey? Come on in, it’s cold outside.” She ushers me through the doorway, and the warmth of the house wraps around me instantly.

We cross the foyer with polished wood floors and pass under the ridiculous chandelier that probably costs more than my car.

The inside of the house is different. The layout is the same, of course, but when I was twenty-two, this house felt like the most alive place I’d ever been with staff, guests, and music. Now it’s quieter, although not peaceful-quiet. More like careful-quiet. Like the house is holding its breath.

“I, um… I’m here to visit Tessa.”