Page 65 of Vega

“Prodigy!” Sire reached me first, but Truth wasn’t far behind. I bent down, lifted one with each arm, and carried them toward the den while they screamed and laughed beside my ears.

“Put me higher!” Truth demanded.

“You already too heavy.”

“I’m not heavy!”

“You weigh at least a hundred pounds.”

Truth laughed harder. “No, I don’t!”

Sire grabbed the front of my shirt. “Throw us on the couch.”

“Leave Prodigy alone, y’all,” Aria laughed from behind them.

I lowered them to the floor as Aria approached the doorway with two toys tucked beneath one arm. She looked like she had been trying to clean behind children who could destroy a room faster than she restored it.

“Hey,” she greeted.

I hugged her quickly and kissed her cheek. “What’s up, sis?”

“The guys are in the office.”

I adjusted the bookbag on my shoulder and turned toward the hallway. That was when I noticed the woman sitting alone at the kitchen island. She wore a simple spaghetti strapped sundress, and even from where I stood, grief seemed to surround her. Her smooth brown skin looked brilliant beneath the kitchen lights, and long champagne-blonde hair fell around her face in thick, feathered layers that reached well past her shoulders. She had full lips, high cheekbones, and large dark eyes framed by long lashes, but the sadness inside them dimmed what should’ve been an effortless beauty. A glass of water sat in front of her beside a plate she hadn’t touched.

Aria followed my gaze.

“That’s Novi,” she said quietly. “Kash’s girl.”

I knew Kash because we were associated with the same crew. I had bumped shoulders with him at a few events. He always seemed like a solid nigga, and it was fucked up what had happened to him.

Aria’s expression softened. “She’s going through it. I can’t even imagine losing Legend like that.” Her eyes briefly moved toward the den, where the children had already returned to arguing over something. “She lost the man she thought she was going to spend her life with. I talked to her for as long as these kids would allow me. She’s a sweet girl. You can tell she really loved Kash.”

Before I could respond, a baby began wailing from the playpen inside the den.

Aria sighed. “And there goes Major.”

She touched my arm before hurrying away. I started toward the office but slowed when I reached the kitchen.

Novi remained, staring at nothing. She was beautiful in a soft, understated way. No dramatic makeup or effort to draw attention. Her features were delicate, and her hair framed a face that probably looked even more fascinating when she smiled.

It wasn’t her beauty that kept my attention, though. It was the pain in her expression. She looked like she had been hollowed out and left to keep functioning anyway.

“Excuse me,” I called as I entered the kitchen.

Her eyes lifted slowly.

“I’m Prodigy.”

“Novi,” she barely replied.

“I’m sorry for your loss. I knew Kash. He was a good dude.”

Her lips pressed together. “Thank you.” The words barely left her mouth, though.

Tears gathered in her eyes, and she looked down before they could fall.

I didn’t force more conversation. Grief didn’t need strangers asking questions or delivering speeches about how everything happened for a reason.