Page 75 of Twins for Three Bad Boys

“Of course,” I say quickly. “Yeah.”

“Evan,” Rex says. “You know who I am?”

Evan squints at him. “You’re… Rex.”

Rex’s brows lift. “Yeah?”

Evan nods, proud of himself. “Daddy’s friend.”

Wayne’s friend.

Which means… Rex is part of the world I’m living in now. The world I’m still learning how to breathe inside.

Rex grins at Evan. “That’s right, buddy.”

Evan pats Bolt again, then announces, “My dinosaur egg is in my pocket.”

Rex’s face goes serious. “Well. That’s important.”

Evan nods emphatically. “Yeah.”

Rex looks at me. “See? He’s responsible.”

I laugh softly. “Extremely.”

Rex’s smile widens as if he likes the sound of me laughing.

Maybe it does something to him. It definitely does something to me.

Evan immediately decides Rex and Bolt are now part of our mission.

He grabs his stick and points at the river. “We have to rescue the dinosaurs.”

Rex nods solemnly. “That’s a big job.”

Evan looks at him, clearly impressed by Rex’s understanding. “Yeah.”

Bolt trots to the water’s edge and sniffs, tail wagging, ready to help.

Rex falls into it easily. He doesn’t talk down to Evan. Doesn’t do the fake baby voice thing. He talks to him like he’s a person.

And I don’t know why it affects me so much, but it does.

We walk along the riverbank together for a while, Evan in front, shouting about lava and bridges and dinosaur attacks, Bolt trotting beside him, a loyal soldier, and Rex and I hanging back.

Rex glances at me. “You doin’ alright?”

My throat tightens automatically, my body preparing to lie the way it always does. But Rex is looking at me like he’ll hear the lie and let it pass, though he’ll know.

“I… yeah,” I say, then sigh. “Mostly.”

Rex hums softly, like he understands what I mean. “Mostly is good.”

We walk a few more steps in silence, the river’s song filling the spaces like it’s trying to keep things calm on my behalf. Evan’s still ahead, now crouched near a fallen branch, declaring it a “dinosaur trap,” while Bolt circles him, genuinely invested in the outcome.

“So,” he says, drawling it out, eyes sliding over me with lazy amusement, “how does it feel, bein’ so brave?”

I blink. “Brave?”