“Wyatt cooked, actually.” I freeze, glancing at him where he leans against the fridge, arms crossed, watching me carefully.
“You cooked this?” A slow smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth.
“Rachel is a good teacher. When I stayed here before, she taught me a few of her special recipes.”
Garrett snorts. “If we’d known you were so easy to domesticate, we’d have started making use of you years ago.” Rachel swats him on the arm with the dish towel, making Garrett yelp and leap off the counter.
“Enough out of you.” I can’t help my grin. Rachel has understood quickly how to deal with Gare, and I can tell already that she will be like a mother to everyone. Just before she sets her towel down, preparing to leave the room, her brown eyes flick over my outfit, and she grins at Wyatt knowingly. “You’re right. Orange really is her color.”
I look down at the clothes I dragged on in the dark, only now noticing the vibrant orange shade of the hoodie. Just like Wyatt’s one that I’ve been stealing since I arrived at Waversea. Gaping at him, Wyatt shrugs, feigning innocence.
“I don’t keep secrets from Rachel. It’s a new thing I’m trying.” Nodding, I take my plate and pause to take him in, appraising him with my eyes.
“I like that.”
I slide into the same dining chair as earlier, happy to find I have Axel for company. He’s working on something on his phone, brows pinched in concentration. I don’t bother him, but I nudge my foot forward to touch his. He briefly flashes those beautiful hazel eyes my way and smirks, meeting me halfway beneath the table.
Carefully lifting the spoon to my mouth, Wyatt steps forward to cast me in his shadow. “Once you’ve eaten, we have a surprise for you.” I glance between him and the others and lower the spoon, suddenly suspicious, but it’s not me who speaks first.
“A surprise?” Huxley asks, appearing in the doorway with a blurry-eyed Dax. The pair of them exchange a look with Garrett, who mimeszipping his lips and then eating the key. Axel avoids my gaze completely, clearly in on whatever this is.
“Eat,” Wyatt repeats, and the way he says it makes my stomach twist with anticipation. So, we do.
The stew is as delicious as it smells—rich and hearty, warming me from the inside out. The bread is perfect for sopping up the thick sauce, and despite how sluggish I’d felt moments ago, I finish nearly all of it, albeit rather ungracefully. The ache in my face forces me to chew excruciatingly slowly, since most of my meals up to now have been liquified. I manage it though, feeling sated and full at last.
For a beat, I glance around the table, taking in the faces of the people who have become my family. The exhaustion, the hunger, the bruises, the scrapes, and the shadows under their eyes are all still present. But for a rare moment, it no longer matters.
I let my mind drift back to the hospital. To the room that Meg is currently occupying in the psych ward. Upon arrival, she only spoke five words, and they were enough to convince the doctors that I was detrimental to her recovery.
Keep Avery away from me.
Those words continue to cut through me like a knife, slicing deeper every time they echo in my head. Five words, each more painful than the last, each twisting inside me like a blade I can’t pull out. No matter how much I want to. No matter how much Ineedto.
Meg is lying in a hospital bed, curled away from the world. She believes, with every ounce of what’s left of her shattered soul, that I’m the reason she’s there. I squeeze my eyes shut, but it doesn’t stop the images from surfacing. The dull, broken look in her eyes in the back of the car, the way she flinched from my touch as though I seared her.
I swallow hard, blinking back the sting behind my eyes. I should have been able to save her. I should have been able to domore. Instead, I made questionable choices, and ultimately, I was too late. Now when she looks at me, she sees nothing but the worst moments of her life.
My chair scrapes back against the floor, jarring me back to the present, and I realize that Wyatt is watching me. His sharp green eyes narrow slightly, his jaw tightening. Always so perceptive, always soawareof me.
He knows. Of course he knows.
Wyatt has spent years picking me apart, learning every flicker of my emotions and every small shift in my posture. He doesn’t have to ask what’s wrong. He already understands. But that doesn’t stop him from trying.
“You’re in your head, Angel.” He leans down to speak into my ear. The others can hear, but it’s nice to pretend that it’s not so obvious when I check out and allow my mind to drift. “Come back to us.” They all know I can’t shake this feeling that it will creep up often. Axel reaches over, his fingers brushing over my knuckles. A silent reassurance. A quiet promise. The rest of the table picks up the conversation they were having, giving me the space to break in peace.
But breaking won’t fix this. Breaking won’t change the fact that Meg doesn’t want me near her. Breaking won’t bring her back to me, but hopefully, time will. I have to trust that she’s in the right place now, and Thiago has vowed to keep me updated. For whatever reason, Meg has listed him on her visitation list. Apparently all they do is sit, watch movies, and eat vending machine snacks in silence.
Prying the spoon from my hand, Wyatt deems me finished. He removes my plate and then guides me further into the manor. I’ve left to explore, and I wish I could say I was taking any of it in. Another time, maybe. Garrett comes up behind me, his hands on my waist urging me onward, and when he speaks into my ear, it’s a giddy sound that lifts everything that was sinking inside of me.
“You’re going to love this, Peach.” Excitement flashes in his dark eyes. That only makes me more suspicious, but I let them lead me through the house and down a hallway. Wyatt stops in front of a closed door, glancing at me instead of reaching for the handle. His throat bobs with a swallow before he finally clears it, his hands restless at his sides.
“Before we go in, there’s something I need to say.” His voice is quieter than usual, strained with something I can’t quite place. He drags a hand through his hair before meeting my gaze head-on. “I’m not going back to Waversea. I’m staying here.”
I search his face, reading between the lines, but all I see is determination, unwavering, and final. So, I lift a shoulder in a half-hearted shrug. “Okay. Then we’ll stay here.” Wyatt shakes his head, his brown hair shifting with the harsh movement.
“No. I want you to go back with the Souls.” I blink several times, myheart tightening. Is he seriously going to push me away now? After the hurdles we’ve jumped together, the obstacles we’ve maneuvered. I thought we were over this shit.
Licking my lips, I try to keep myself calm. “Wyatt, I?—”
