Tim and Nash still aren’t back from their day on the boat, and North is back to ignoring me, so I clock out and head home.
No, not home, Sloan.
I’m way too attached already.
Making my way up the driveway of the house, I smile at the boats and fish drawn on it with chalk, replacing the puddles we played in yesterday. I can smell the fries as soon as I walk inside, and my stomach starts to grumble.
“Sloany!” Lio comes running out of the kitchen, hitting my legs before hugging them.
“Hey, buddy,” I greet him, stroking his head. “How was your day?”
When I look up, I see Hunter leaning against the doorframe to the kitchen, his arms crossed over his chest, and the butterflies start flying again.
Fuck.
He has a soft smile when he tells me, “I hope you’re hungry,” which prompts my stomach to grumble loudly again, and Hunter laughs. “Come on.”
“We drew with chalk. Did you see it?” Lio asks me as he takes my hand and pulls me into the kitchen.
“I did. You did amazing. I like the green fish,” I tell him, making him beam. He sits at the table, and I take the seat beside him while Hunter places plates with the promised dino nuggies in front of us.
“Thank you,” I tell him when he sits on Lio’s other side.
“You’re welcome. Please eat,” he encourages, and we start.
“Are you going to draw with us next time?” Lio asks me with his mouth full.
“Lio, talk or eat. You can’t do both at the same time,” Hunter chides.
“Sure, I can’t draw for shit, but that would be fun anyway,” I tell him, reaching out for a glass of water when I notice Lio giggle and Hunter shooting me a glare.
Ah, shit.
“I did it again.” I cringe.
I was so focused on not cursing in front of Lio yesterday, but I forgot all about it already.
“It’s fine.” Hunter smiles, going back to eating. “It’s not like Nash or North are doing any better.”
“Can we play again after dinner?” Lio asks, giving me an out.
“Sure, what would you like to play?” I ask.
I honestly don’t mind. It keeps my mind occupied from spiraling or wondering where the hell Saylor is.
Which I did all fucking day.
“Let’s play hide and seek,” he exclaims, making me chuckle at his enthusiasm.
“Sure, that sounds fun.” I nod, biting off the head of a dino.
While we clear the table after dinner, a strange sense of normalcy washes over me. Playing a part in this almost domestic scene feels surreal, comforting yet unsettling for someone who has lived the way I did, mostly alone or with Nan. I’m not used to this—being part of a family routine, even if it’s just pretend.
When we’re done, we start playing. Lio only likes to hide, not to seek, so Hunter and I are looking for him throughout the house. Lio is not the best at finding his hiding spot, though. Something is always sticking out—his foot, his hair, or even just a little finger—and it’s adorable.
Neither Hunter nor I can find him this time, and the house feels too quiet before a chill shivers down my neck. Hunter’s eyes mirror my concern, the playful atmosphere turning tense. That’s when Jessica appears next to me.
She has never interacted much before, just lingered, being creepy, but now she points toward the living room. As if, finally, the shocked state her death left her in is lifting.
