Atlas folds his arms.“It’s true.”
Kael’s voice stays soft.“You need a day off.A real one.”
My instinct is to argue.It’s a reflex at this point—don’t inconvenience, don’t take up space, don’t need too much.But last night...
I needed them.
And they stayed.
I set my fork down.“Where would we go?”
Finn lights up.“I’m thinking pastries at Mike’s, the Common, maybe the harbor, hit the North End—oh!Kael’s gonna make us do the Freedom Trail—”
Kael cuts in.“No, I’m not.”
Atlas adds, “We’re not doing that.”
Finn rolls his eyes.“Spoken like two men who have zero romantic imagination.”
Kael’s face doesn’t move.“It’s cold.”
“It’s winter,” Atlas adds.
“That’s what jackets are for,” Finn insists.
I laugh again—louder this time—and all three heads snap toward the sound like it’s a rare bird flying through the kitchen.
Finn’s expression softens so fast it almost hurts to look at.
Atlas lowers his chin, like he’s memorizing it.
Kael...
Kael looks at me like he just found the missing variable in an equation he’s been solving for weeks.
“Let’s go,” I say, surprising myself.
All three blink like they didn’t expect me to say yes so quickly.
Finn pumps a fist.“Hell yes.”
Atlas nods.“Good.”
Kael grabs his keys.“Wear a warm jacket.”
I roll my eyes.“I own jackets.”
He stands there, deadpan.“Wear a warm one.”
***
Boston in daylightfeels like a different planet.The air is crisp, winter-blue sky stretching overhead, the city loud but not overwhelming.We walk down Hanover Street, and Finn buys me a pastry the size of my face.
“Mmm,” I hum around the first bite.
Finn nearly trips.“Say it again.”
I kick his ankle lightly.“Idiot.”
