Nicole and I laugh, and Dimitri shakes his head—something akin to amusement—and we all start digging into the lovely meal. Chatter is idle as we settle in, sticking to shallow, neutral topics like what show Eleanor and Mac are watching and a story about how George and Some Bills are getting along.
I watch Nicole decline a glass of wine and exchange a look with Madison. She gives me the smallest nod, and I grin. “When are you due?”
“August 11th,” she replies, beaming at Dimitri, who offers a warm smile back.
“Wait, what? You’re pregnant?” Mac asks, the words muffled by a mouth full of food. He looks around at all the smiling faces with accusation. “Am I the only one who didn’t know?”
“Apparently,” I reply loftily, refusing to admit that I just figured it out. At least Ididfigure it out.
“A Leo?” Madison repeats, grimacing. “Oof. That’s gonna be rough for you.”
“Why?” Nicole laughs, taking a big forkful of broccoli.
“Because you’re a Virgo… Leos are super emotional and love the spotlight. Virgos are analytical and prefer subtlety. They show their love through fixing things and organizing.”
“That’s true,” Nicole says thoughtfully. “I still can’t believe you guessed it so accurately.”
“It’s my superpower,” Madison announces proudly. When Dimitri scoffs loudly, she takes it as a challenge. “It is! I’ll prove it. Okay, so, I know this guy is a Scorpio,” she jerks her thumb at me, “and I’ve already confirmed Nicole’s a Virgo. Mac said something about being born in April, but there’s no way he’s an Aries, so I’m going with Taurus.”
“April 30th,” Mac shrugs.
“Yup. Taurus. And Eleanor? Sweet, fair, charming, romantic, people-pleasing, hates confrontation… you’re a Libra.”
Shegrins and nods. “Yeah!”
“A lucky guess,” Dimitri dismisses.
“And the big guy… hmm…” she strokes her chin thoughtfully. “I’m thinking he might be a Virgo too. Decisive, analytical, intense energy, honest and direct, has some trouble with expressing feelings?” she says, glancing at Nicole, who rolls her lips inward instead of answering. “Yeah. Virgo. Final answer.”
“We don’t actually know,” Eleanor says with a laugh. “He won’t tell us.”
Madison’s brows go up, but she chuckles. “Not surprised.”
When she glances at me, I give her a subtle nod. Dimitri and I alone know, and he doesn’t know that I know. But she’s right. She grins proudly. “Well, that’s four out of four, so I’d say that’s better than lucky guesses.”
There’s some general chatter at that, on both sides—Dimitri resolutely maintaining the silliness of it all, and Eleanor convinced Madison is a witch. When it dies down, the silence settles in a way that’s not uncomfortable, but heavy with a single, huge, unresolved question.
“So what’s next? Fred’s gone, and the program is hobbled, right?” Mac asks, breaking the ice. “But it’s still out there?”
I nod. “Madison and I still have quite a bit of work to do to remove the rest of the copies of the program, but we should be able to manage without any more loss of life. I thought we’d continue to use this house as our center of operations. All our equipment is here—it doesn’t really make much sense to go anywhere else.”
“And what about you guys?” Eleanor asks, directing it at Nicole and Dimitri. “You’ll… um… go off and start your family?”
They exchange a look. “Yes,” Dimitri says. “Though not right away. I plan to pursue the names in the book that Felix gave to me. It will probably take some time to track them all down, and it is not safe for us to leave until I have killed them all.”
At his words, there’s a palpable snap in the tension across the table. I think everyone expected them to be the first to want to leave. And maybe it’s just punting the problem, but it gives us some more time for… this.
For being together. For being a family.
“Sounds like you might need a hand with that,” Mac says, grinning.
Dimitri’s lips twitch. “I would not decline it if such an offer were made. I expect it will take a few months. Perhaps a year.”
Mac nods, scrubbing the stubble on the edge of his jaw. He studies each of us, grin widening. “So… Eleanor and me? We’re staying here,” he announces.
Eleanor smacks him in the stomach, making him curl inwards with a softoof. “Mac!” she hisses. “You said Wes owns the house. We were going toask.”
“Fuck that, he owes us this,” he says, eyes flicking over to me. I understand what he means—he’s giving me this as a way to make things right. “Plus, why are we pretending? We all know this is the best place for us. All of us. Like, we’re ‘retired,’ but I think we all know we can’t just retire like that,” he snaps. “There’s gonna be the odd hitman with a grudge, orsomething. Issues crop up all the time. And this property is already set up and can be monitored… Plus, we’re better as a team than we are apart. Right?”
