They’ve formed a loose semicircle around Darian, bobbing at the surface like cheerful little sentinels.
“This is getting out of hand,” Darian says, his voice pitched higher than normal.
“On the contrary,” Finn says, “I think this is the perfect amount of hand. The exact right number of hands. Shadow hands. Ed hands. Whatever they have.”
“They don’t have hands.”
“That’s what makes it special.”
Torric is staring at the Ed formation with growing confusion. “Why are they doing that?”
“Unknown,” Aspen says. But he’s smiling now — actually smiling, not just the controlled twitch of amusement. “Perhaps they sense his discomfort.”
“They’refeedingon my discomfort?”
“That seems dramatic.”
“I’m being swarmed by shadow creatures and you’re callingmedramatic?”
Patricia’s notebook is flickering rapidly. Documenting every moment of Darian’s descent into madness.
I let my foot trace along Kaia’s calf. Slow. Deliberate. Unmistakable now.
Her breath catches — a soft hitch that she covers by shifting position.
At the same moment, I tap my other foot lightly against Finn’s leg. Once. Twice.I’m here. I’m not forgetting you.
He makes a sound low in his throat. Barely audible. Quickly swallowed.
His hand moves under the water.
Finds Kaia’s.
I watch their fingers intertwine beneath the surface. Watch Finn’s whole body shudder at the contact — such a small thing, but for him it might as well be a declaration.
Kaia squeezes his hand. Doesn’t let go.
Aspen’s smile has become a full grin.
I’ve known him for months. He doesn’t grin. He offers controlled almost-smiles. Careful expressions of mild amusement.
This is different. This is a real grin, spreading across his face like he can’t contain it.
Torric notices. Follows his brother’s gaze. Studies me, then Finn, then Kaia. Studies the way we’re positioned — closer than we were. Angled toward each other.
“Oh,” he says.
Aspen makes a sound that’s definitely a laugh, quickly smothered.
“Oh,” Torric repeats, understanding dawning.
He starts grinning too.
Kieran registers the shift.
His expression shutters — that careful blankness he uses when he’s feeling something he doesn’t want to show. His gold eyes move from Kaia to Finn to me, tracking the invisible lines between us.
Something flickers in his gaze. Not jealousy, exactly. Something else. More complicated.
