Page 55
“A little bit.”
“Just the front left tire.”
“Oh god.”
“It was a very small curb.”
Mik is watching them from across the table and smiling at Stone’s reactions. Tyler is beside him, and every few minutes, their eyes meet. The love between them is as bright as the North Star.
Nikko is on my other side, pretending he isn’t worried about me.
He caught me on the porch about ten seconds after I killed the engine when I arrived this morning. He hugged me and then held me at arm’s length, looking me over like he was checking for injuries.
“You okay?”
“Of course.”
“You look tired.”
“I’ve been driving.”
He’d let it go. Sort of. But I’ve caught him glancing at me every so often, and I know my brother well enough to know he’s trying to catch the moment he’ll have empirical evidence that I am, in fact, not okay.
Bastian arrived a few hours ago with a goat trailing behind him. She’s a small white thing with a red ribbon tied around her neck and clearly thinks she’s a family pet. She made a full lap of the kitchen, demanding attention from every human in reach, and then settled on what appears to be her own dedicated bed in the corner by the stove.
As quick as he came, Bastian disappeared, returning later with Taylen after Kay and Gouta were sent on a seek-and-find mission.
They’re sitting next to each other, aggressively not looking at each other, and the air between them is as charged as a thunderstorm.
I check my phone under the table.
No news from Finn. Not that I would expect any, but he’s almost two hours late.
I open my message app and type quickly.
Fox:
Everything okay?
The message delivers, but it doesn’t get read, so I put my phone back in my pocket.
I’ve noticed Sylvie glancing at the clock on the wall a few times and then sharing a look with her husband.
“Where’s Finn?” Taylen asks, reaching for the mashed potatoes.
“You’re his best friend,” Bastian says immediately, passing him the dish. “Shouldn’t you know?”
I stop breathing for half a beat while keeping my face neutral. I reach for the stuffing like I have any interest in eating right now.
Taylen and Bastian go back and forth about Finn’s whereabouts. Taylen says Finn has been distant lately, that he’s been harder to pin down for their usual drinks, and my hand tightens slightly around the serving spoon.
I don’t look at either of them.
Instead, I focus on my plate. Carve out a section for turkey. A section for potatoes. A section for green beans. Keep the cranberry sauce separate because it tries to run into everything else if you don’t watch it.
Griffin is in the Winterberry town square or his office, probably stressing over the gas leak and trying to fix everything.
And I am here, cutting my dinner into quadrants.
