I stared at the words for so long my thumb went numb. Every instinct screamed I was being paranoid, but that had never stopped a disaster before.
After another moment's hesitation, I sent it. Dots appeared and blinked out. Xavier must've been on the other line or halfway up the mountain himself. Either way, he'd get the message.
I set the phone on the dashboard and let my head rest against the seat. The valley spread out below, winter-bare, and wide open. It was beautiful, the kind of place people drove from states away to see, but rightnow it just looked vulnerable. Like anything could walk in and wreck it if I wasn't paying attention.
I thought about the twins, about Tash, about every messy thread that bound us together. None of them had asked for a security detail, but if trouble was coming, I'd be first in line.
Caden rumbled, approval in every muscle.
I watched the sun slip lower, the light turning to crystal over the trees, and promised myself I'd hold the line as long as it took.
When I started the truck and pointed it home. Caden and I were agreed.
Tash
The rain hadn't letup since before dawn. At this point, the whole yard was basically a mud pie wearing last year's leaves. Now that I had to head outside into it. I'd already unboxed all the kitchen and living room items and started on the bedroom. Scrubbing the kitchen for the third time in two days only went so far, and I couldn't pace another lap inside without walking a lane into the floorboards.
We needed holiday cheer. I'd get some twinkle lights strung up on the eaves, put the little fake pine wreath on the porch, and pretend like I wasn't waiting to hear something from the girls.
What I didn't say out loud, mostly because it was a little deranged, was that standing on a damp stepladder, breathing in the smell of cold rain and wet wood,felt like the closest I'd come to calm today. I'd go nuts waiting for the girls to make their decision. So I chose the ladder over the living room, the drizzle over the uncertainty.
The last set of lights had gotten itself into the kind of knot that might've stumped a NASA engineer. I tried to untangle it, but the ladder kept shifting underneath me. Left, right, barely staying put on what passed for solid ground. I probably had mud halfway up my sweats.
The water from the gutter dripped directly onto the top of my head. Every few seconds, it went straight down the collar of my jacket, cold enough to make me flinch. I probably could've fixed it by just moving the ladder, but I was in the zone. Every motion, every little yank and twist of the cord, felt like focus. If I gave myself even a breath to think, my brain would spiral into a knot again. But even the rhythm didn't quiet the low hum in my chest that had started after seeing Chance again, a restless pulse I kept trying to ignore.
Still, it wasn't enough. I kept replaying the same checklist. Did I make the right call pushing for the move? Was this too much, too soon, expecting Fifi and Mere to meet a man they'd only heard about? I'd told them a million times over the last week it was their decision. No pressure.
If I were honest, the waiting was eating me alive. Every time my mind tried to settle, the memory of his hands bracing me in the creek crept back in, warm and steady in a way that messed with my breathing.
The tangle fought back. If I broke a bulb or two, so what? The lights were only three dollars a box, and nobody in the creek was grading our house on curb appeal.
Huey barked from the kitchen. He was a coward about rain, so if he wanted out, it meant he was ready to burst.
I wrapped the last loop of cord around my wrist and leaned out, one hand bracing on the trim. The ladder wobbled like a drunk, and my sneakers skidded a little. For a half-second, I thought about how embarrassing it would be to fall into the mud. Then the back door banged open, and my focus snapped straight to the porch. For one stupid heartbeat, I expected to see him and felt a rush of something I had no business feeling.
They came out together. Mere first, shoulders squared, ponytail already dampening. Fifi was right behind her, hoodie zipped to her throat, hands yanking at the string like she was trying to wring the stress out through her fingertips. Huey squeezedright between them, tail wagging in furious little circles even as the first splash of rain hit his nose.
Fifi spoke first. "We need to talk."
It cracked my concentration clean in two. I jerked just enough to send the whole coil of lights flying out of my hands. They landed in a perfect arc, splashing into the nearest puddle by the woodpile.
The ladder teetered and rocked again. Mere darted forward, one hand bracing the bottom rung. "Careful," she said. "You're gonna break your neck if you keep doing that."
"I'm fine. Really." My words sounded fake, but I was too busy clutching the gutter to care.
Fifi didn't wait for me to get down. She just chewed on her lower lip, then blurted, "We've decided."
Every atom of me stilled. Even the rain seemed to pause for the punchline.
I tried to play it cool. "Yeah?"
She nodded, but it was clear she had to fight herself to say the next part. "We want to meet him. Our… father." The last word caught, like she wasn't sure how her mouth was supposed to form it.
My heart did something wild. I think it actually skipped, then stuttered hard enough that I had to grip the ladder tighter to keep upright.
Mere kept her hand on the rung, eyes fixed on theground. "But only if you're there. The whole time. We're not doing this solo, Mom. Not even for a second."
As if on cue, Huey shook, spraying muddy water in every direction, then circled under the ladder. I bit my tongue to keep from making a dumb joke about support systems. I just stood there, letting the rain and the adrenaline wreck my composure.
