“He’s been… good,” I said, glancing at Chain. “Better than I expected.”
Maria beamed. “He’s got a soft spot. Doesn’t show it to many.”
Chain grumbled into his coffee. “Can we not—”
But the teasing was gentle, curved around affection. The kind families had when they weren’t afraid of one another.
It made something ache inside me—something I didn’t expect.
I lifted my tea, staring into the amber surface as I said quietly, “I didn’t grow up with this.”
Why I felt I needed to say those words I’ll never know.
Silence fell—not stiff, not startled. Just still.
Maria’s hands paused where she was setting out more plates. Earl lowered his paper. Briar’s playful expression softened, her eyes sharpening with quiet understanding. Chain didn’t look away from me.
I exhaled slowly. “My mom died when I was little. Too little to remember more than the sound of her voice. My father… he didn’t know what to do with me.” Didn’t want to, I almost added. “He let the women in the community raise me.” I picked at the edge of a napkin. “Not lovingly. Not… like this.”
Maria’s expression warmed even more. Not pity. Not discomfort.
Just… compassion.
“Oh, sweetheart,” she murmured, “I’m so sorry.”
Her voice wrapped around the ache but didn’t press on it. Earl nodded once, weight behind the gesture, and Briar’s eyes glowed with something protective.
They knew. I felt it. Chain had told them enough to prepare them. And instead of looking at me like I was fragile, they just made room.
Maria came around the table then, setting a warm hand on my shoulder. “Well,” she said firmly, “I don’t know a thing about how you grew up, sweetheart… but you’re sitting at my table now. And anyone at my table is family.”
Tears stung my eyes before I could stop them. I blinked fast, clearing my throat. “Thank you.”
Under the table, Chain’s hand found my knee again—warm, firm, just enough pressure to remind me I wasn’t alone.
Briar grinned suddenly, trying to lighten the moment. “You staying for pie? Ma made her peach one.”
“That’s not fair,” Chain muttered. “You’re bribin’ her.”
Maria shrugged. “It works.”
It did, but the pie wasn’t what made me want to stay.I liked it here, surrounded by this loving family. I looked around the table, at Maria’s bright smile, Earl’s easy humor, Briar’s teasing warmth, Chain’s quiet, protective presence, and something eased deep inside my chest.
“I’d like that,” I said softly. “I’d like to stay.”
Chain looked at me then—really looked—and his eyes softened in a way that made my breath catch.
Briar raised her tea. “Welcome to the family table, Lark.”
Chain leaned close again, voice a whisper meant only for me. “Told you they’d like you.”
I looked at him, heart thudding slow and sure in a way that felt unfamiliar. “They’re easy to like.”
His eyes softened. “So are you.”
The words scattered warmth through me like sunlight breaking through after too many years of night.
Maybe this was what family felt like. Maybe this was whatlifefelt like, full and warm and terrifying in all the best ways.
