But he hugged her anyway, strong arms wrapping around her like he’d done it his whole life. Watching them made something warm ache quietly beneath my ribs.
Chain stepped back and motioned to me. “Ma, this is Lark.”
Maria’s attention shifted, and I braced myself for polite curiosity, the kind people had when they didn’t know what to make of someone. For her eyes to go to the scar on my face, and for her to see the burns on my hands. But that wasn’t what I saw.
Her eyes were soft. Kind. Knowledgeable in a way she shouldn’t be unless Chain had told her about me.
“Come in, honey,” she said, voice warm as a quilt. “Breakfast is still hot.”
The breath I hadn’t realized I was holding eased out.
Inside, the kitchen smelled like cinnamon and butter, fresh biscuits cooling on the counter. The walls were lined with framed photos—Chain as a boy, two girls with his same smile, and dark braids down their backs.
I was staring at that last picture when footsteps padded down the hallway.
A young woman rounded the corner, barefoot, ponytail swinging. She was pretty in the effortless way some women just are, confidence in every line of her body. She stopped when she saw me.
“Ma, who—” Her gaze flicked between me and Chain, and her mouth curved into a knowing grin. “Oh.Thismust be Lark.”
Chain sighed. “Here we go.”
The woman walked straight up to me and stuck out her hand. “I’m Briar. Chain’s younger sister. Also the one stuck hearin’ every thought he thinks he’s keepin’ private.”
“I don’t—” Chain started, but Briar waved him off.
“He does. Don’t be fooled.”
I laughed despite myself. “It’s nice to meet you.”
She squeezed my hand warmly. “It really is. I’ve heard a lot about you.”
Chain groaned again. “Jesus. Can everyone stop announcin’ that?”
“No,” Briar and Maria said at the same time.
Briar smirked. “Chain talks. We listen.”
Chain groaned into his palm. “Jesus Christ…”
Maria swatted his arm lightly. “Language.”
Earl Riggs looked up from the table then—broad shoulders, gray threaded through dark hair, eyes lit with humor. “So this the one you been teachin’ to drive?”
Chain muttered, “You make it sound like I’m raisin’ her.”
Earl grinned. “From what I hear, she’s got more patience than you ever did.”
I smiled at that—really smiled—and took a seat where Maria gestured. The warmth of the room settled over me like a blanket I didn’t know I needed.
The room shifted into motion, plates passed, chairs pulled, laughter floating between them. I felt like I’d stepped into the middle of something alive, something that had been here long before me and didn’t mind making space for one more.
Maria placed a plate in front of me, biscuits steaming, honey drizzled on top. “Eat, sweetheart. You could use somethin’ warm.”
Her voice hit something tender inside me. A small, hollow place I’d grown used to ignoring.
Chain sat beside me, his knee brushing mine under the table in a quiet, grounding way.
Briar perched across from me, chin in her hand. “So, how’s the drivin’? He teaching you right or scarin’ you half to death?”
