Page 44 of Twins for Three Bad Boys

I take one of the scraps from his hand and tilt it so the light hits the grain. The little swirls in the wood catch like ripples in water.

Evan leans in despite himself.

“It’s like lines,” he says slowly.

“Exactly,” I say triumphantly. “And the lines can become things.”

Evan squints. “What things?”

“You know I make toys,” I explain, “out of wood. Like the one I gave you.”

Evan’s eyes widen. “You mean can make more toys like that one?”

I nod. “Yep.”

He stares at me like I just revealed I’m secretly a wizard.

“You’re like a builder,” he declares excitedly.

My chest tightens. “I guess I am.”

Evan looks at the scraps again, then at me. “Can you make a dinosaur?”

I laugh. “A dinosaur?”

“A big one,” he says firmly. “With spikes.”

“A big spiky dinosaur might be… challenging,” I say carefully. “But I can make you something dinosaur-related.”

Evan’s expression turns intensely thoughtful. “A dinosaur car.”

“A dinosaur car,” I repeat.

He nods. “So the dinosaur can drive.”

I bite my lip to keep from laughing. “Right. Of course. Because dinosaurs definitely drive.”

Evan points at the pan. “Your sandwich is burning.”

I gasp and spin around, flipping it quickly in the pan. “Okay, first of all, thank you. Second of all, okay, a dinosaur car it is.”

Evan grins, pleased with himself.

The grilled cheese survives.

And for the rest of lunch, Evan keeps glancing at the wood scraps on the counter like they might sprout legs and run away.

By the time we finish eating, he’s practically vibrating with curiosity, so I lead him to my room.

It still feels strange to have a room in Wayne’s house that’s totally mine. Like I’ll open the door, and someone will tell me it’s a mistake and get out.

But it’s still there.

And my box of toys is tucked under the bed where I put it the day I arrived.

Evan drops onto the floor immediately, peering under the bed, hunting for contraband.

“What’s in there?” he demands.