The kitchen was warm and fragrant with the ghost of the evening’s earlier dishes—roasted meat and garlic, the sharp sweetness of cranberries, the yeasty undertone of fresh rolls. Cluttered with the aftermath of feeding forty people. Annie stood at the sink, washing the last of the serving platters. Ray dried them with methodical efficiency. Jordan leaned against the counter, a glass of wine in hand and a look of amused exhaustion on her face.
Someone pressed a glass into Quinn’s hand before she could fully orient herself. She accepted it gratefully.
“Finally,” Jordan said. “We needed another member of the cleanup crew who’s willing to stand around and supervise.”
“I resent that.” Charlie grabbed a dish towel and snapped it in Jordan’s direction. “I’ve been working.”
“You’ve beendelegating,” Annie laughed. “There’s a difference.”
“Delegation is a form of work. It’s actually harder than just doing things yourself, because you have to trust other people not to mess it up.”
Ray made a soft sound that might have been a laugh. “How’s that working out for you?”
Charlie’s expression shifted to something pained. She picked up a cookie from a leftover plate—one of her own contributions—and tapped it against the counter.
The sound was closer to stone than baked goods.
“I don’t understand what went wrong.”
“Nothing went wrong.” Ray didn’t look up from the platter she was drying. “You made exactly what you always make.”
“Weapons,” Jordan supplied helpfully.
Quinn laughed, the wine warming her from the inside. “At least yours hold their shape. Mine looked like it had an existential crisis in the oven.”
“An existential crisis?” Annie glanced over her shoulder from the sink.
“It sort of... collapsed inward. Like it was questioning its purpose in life and decided the answer was ‘not this.’”
Charlie set down the cookie-rock with a thunk. “Annie. You’re being very silent over there.”
“I’m washing dishes.”
“You’re beingdiplomatic.”
Annie’s shoulders tensed almost imperceptibly. “I’m being occupied. There’s a difference.”
“She’s protecting our feelings,” Quinn said. “Which means we should be terrified.”
Jordan grinned. “Gabe ate three of Ray’s brownies out of loyalty. He’s going to be regretting that decision for the rest of the night.”
Ray shrugged, utterly unbothered. “Dorian knows better. He grabbed two of Joy’s tarts before anyone else could get to them.” She set the dried platter aside and reached for another. “Smart man.”
The conversation shifted the way it always did with them—dessert failures becoming springboards to older memories. Christmases past, when Linear Tactical was just a handful of determined veterans pooling their resources. When their kids were small enough to wrangle, before they grew into adults with their own lives and choices and families.
“Gabe still thinks the girls are twelve,” Jordan said, shaking her head. “Every time a man so much asglancesat Lilah or Scarlett, he gets that look. You know the one. Like he’s calculating how quickly he could make a body disappear.”
Charlie snorted. “Finn’s the same. Calls themthe kidslike they’re not the ones running Linear Tactical now.”
“Dorian too.” Ray’s voice went softer. Something tender crept into it. “Theo towers over him, but Dorian still checks his room at night. Old habits. And don’t get me started of how protective he is of Savannah or Amari, even though both of them can totally handle themselves.”
Quinn thought about Baby doing the same thing with Lincoln. Even now, even though their son was a grown man who could hack into government databases in his sleep. Some instincts didn’t fade. Some worries never fully released their grip.
You could know your child was capable, competent, extraordinary—and still lie awake at night wondering if you’d done enough. Given them enough. Prepared them for a world that didn’t always know what to do with people who were different.
Annie moved from the sink to stand beside Quinn, their shoulders almost touching. The kitchen noise continued around them—Charlie and Jordan bickering about something, Ray offering dry commentary—but Annie’s attention was focused.
“You okay? You went somewhere else for a minute.”
