Page 61 of Ex Somnis

“Three.” Ridge turns the lollipop slowly between his teeth.

“Parallel.” Paul is doing the glasses-pinch thing again.

“Simultaneously,” I confirm. “Yeah.”

“You’re telling me,” Ridge says slowly. “Your cryptid little brother astrologically confirmed the soulmate-tether-belonging-with-situation.”

“I hate that sentence,” Paul mutters.

Ridge narrows his eyes slightly. “What exactly did he say?”

“He…” I grimace. “Would like to have your moon signs.”

“How would I even know what my moon sign is?” Paul sighs again, somehow even deeper than before.

I shrug. “We’d need to ask him.”

“You know what?” Ridge leans back in his chair slowly. “Sure. Fuck it. At this point, I’ll give the astrology child my blood type if it gets Lennon back.”

A laugh escapes me before I can stop it.

Paul looks deeply offended by the entire conversation. “I am not participating in astrological profiling.”

“You literally show people how to get lucid in their subconsciousness for a living,” Ridge points out.

“That is science.”

“Sure it is.”

Paul opens his mouth, then closes it again when Lennon shifts faintly in the bed beside us. Every head snaps toward her instantly.

The movement is tiny.

Barely anything.

Her finger twitches once against the blanket before stilling again, but the room changes anyway. Hope floods through it so suddenly it almost hurts.

Then Lennon settles again.

Still asleep.

Still gone.

Behind me, Ridge exhales slowly.

“All right,” he says quietly without taking his eyes off her. “Somebody text the zodiac kid.”

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Lennon

“Even if I wanted to.”

This has to be the worst sentence I have ever heard in my life.

The air still smells like bread. The roses are still too perfect. The birds are still chirping something cheerful in the trees above us, completely unbothered.

And I’m still holding onto my best friend’s hands.