“Are you sayingKoalooks more trustworthy thanme?” Zane’s yelp contained precisely three octaves of theatrical betrayal.
“Yes,” she said, as slow and deliberate as maple sap dripping onto snow. “That’s exactly what I’m saying.”
“Darling, I’m wounded. Deeply, profoundly—”
“And Casimir can’t come, either.” My ribs ached from suppressing laughter as Seri turned those wide, guileless eyes toward our older brother, whose knuckles went white around his tablet, and the vein in his temple pulsed. “Because I want to talk about him.”
Time stood still.
Zane froze mid-reach for Brumous, face caught between incredulity and delight. Cas turned into a statue. Only his eyes moved, tracking Seri’s every microexpression like she might detonate.
Oh, this is glorious,I thought, not even bothering to hide the wicked grin spreading across my face.
The mental snapshot would sustain me through decades of their bullshit. Zane’s sputtering fish impersonation, torn betweenlaughing at her bluntness and arguing that hecouldkeep a secret. Which, let’s be real, he absolutelycouldn’t. Then there was the way Cas’ throat bobbed like he’d swallowed a bug. Pride and panic warred in the tight lines of his shoulders.
It was a beautiful mess, one I’d savor like a fine wine for years to come.
I scooped Seri into my arms and cradled her against my chest. She let out a little squeak of surprise, but looped her arms around my neck. I didn’t miss the way her fingers trembled, though, or the faint flush creeping up her cheeks. It was the carefulness of someone learning how to exist near another person they found attractive.
“Let’s go to the kitchen. We’ll make a snack.”
As I hit the arched doorway, Cas’ flustered whisper sliced through Zane’s whines about being left behind.
“What did I do to earn her anger?”
“How do you know she’s mad at you?” Zane asked.
“She didn’t call me Simmy.”
I swallowed the laugh threatening to escape. Seri, tucked safely in my arms, seemed oblivious to the storm she’d just stirred, just as she was unaware of my quiet satisfaction that she’d chosenme. Not because I wanted to one-up my brothers, but because it meant she trusted me.
And I wasn’t about to let her down.
The kitchen’s frosted glass doors parted with a nudge of my hip, revealing stainless steel appliances glinting under recessed lights. I deposited her on the countertop, her legs dangling over the edge.
“Popcorn and hot chocolate?” I asked, already moving toward the pantry.
She nodded, a faint smile tugging at her lips, and I grabbed the ingredients, setting the kettle on the stove and tossing a bag of popcorn in the microwave. The familiar routine gave me something to do with my hands while I prepared myself to fix whatever was bothering her.
Getting out a bowl, I dumped the hot popcorn in it and set on the counter next to her thigh. Moments later, the kettle whistled, and it only took a moment to pour hot water over the powdered mix in our mugs.
Seri cupped her hands around the warm ceramic, and steam curled through her lashes as she studied me.
“You’re really good at this.”
“At what? Making snacks?” I raised an eyebrow, stirring more marshmallows into my hot chocolate.
“No,” she said, shaking her head. “At making me feel safe.”
My hand stilled, and I looked at her face, vulnerable in a way that made my chest ache.
“You deserve to feel safe, Serafina. Always.”
“I do. I feel safe here. With all of you. But, um, Koko?”
“Hmm?”
“Why does Simmy get so angry with me sometimes? When he was unpacking Papa’s things, he was so careful and said he’d make a place for them, and I thought… But now? I’m not sure.” She bowed her head and curled her shoulders in. “He doesn’t like me, does he?”
