Lily is setting down a platter of food as we step outside. Scrambled eggs fluffy and perfectly cooked. Toast with butter already melting. Fresh fruit arranged with care. Bacon crisp just how I like it.
"Lily," I say. "Set two more places. For Erion and yourself."
She hesitates. Her hands still on the platter. Uncertainty crosses her face, a flicker of something that looks like confusion about whether she's allowed to sit with us.
"You're one of the gang now. Our partner in crime," Erion says. His voice is light, teasing, but there's truth underneath the humor.
Luan laughs. A real laugh, the kind that comes from his chest. Light. Unforced. The sound is so unexpected that it takes me a moment to process it.
I find myself smiling despite everything. Despite the violence planned for tonight. Despite the precarious position we're all in. Despite knowing this moment of ease is temporary.
Lily disappears inside. Returns moments later with more plates balanced carefully in her hands. More silverware that catches the morning light. She sets a place for Erion across from Luan. Then one for herself across from me, her movements efficient and practiced.
She sits down carefully, like she's still not entirely sure this is allowed.
We eat.
The atmosphere shifts. Lightens in ways I haven't experienced in years. The kind of easy comfort that makes you forget, just for a moment, about the weight of everything else.
Luan is relaxed. His posture loose, shoulders no longer carrying tension. He looks younger like this. Less burdened by the crown he inherited through violence.
I realize it's been years since I've seen him this way. Long enough that I'd almost forgotten what he looked like without the weight.
Erion is in his element. Talking. Gesturing with his fork. Teasing Lily in ways that make her laugh, soft sounds that transform her face. She responds with gentle humor, not intimidated by him the way most people are. Not trying to match his energy but not shrinking from it either.
I watch. Notice things I shouldn't be noticing.
How she changes the room. How she brings light without demanding attention. How she exists in this space we've carved out of violence and makes it feel, for a moment, like something other than a fortress.
Notice how Erion watches her with focused intent. More than casual interest.
Something deliberate is happening. Something I should probably address but don't know how to without revealing too much about my own reaction.
"This is incredible," Erion says. He gestures to the food with his fork. "You should be working at a Michelin star restaurant."
Lily's expression shifts. Something shutters behind her eyes. "I was. Up to a year ago." She pauses. Fidgets with her napkin, folding and refolding the corner. "Unfortunately that didn't work out."
"Why not?" Erion's tone is curious, not pushing. But I can see his interest sharpen.
She looks down. Won't meet any of our eyes. The embarrassment radiates off her in waves.
Uncomfortable silence stretches.
Luan speaks. His voice is flat and factual. No emotion coloring the words. "Her boss got handsy. When she told him to stop, he fired her. Then he blacklisted her at every other restaurant in the city."
Lily gasps. Surprise and mortification crossing her face in rapid succession. Her cheeks flush pink, spreading down her neck.
"Mut." Dog. Erion's curse comes out low. Vicious. His hand tightens around his fork hard enough that his knuckles go white.
I set my cutlery down. Too hard. The clatter against ceramic is sharp in the suddenly tense air.
"How do you know that?" Lily asks. She's looking at Luan now, eyes wide with something between shock and violation.
"I heard you on the phone," Luan says matter-of-factly. "That first night. When you were delivering groceries. I was sitting in the living room."
"I didn't know you were there." Her voice is small and uncertain.
Erion is about to say something. I can see it building in him. Rage sharpening his features, jaw clenching, that dangerous energy starting to coil.
