Krystal laughed, the sound chasing away some of the tension. "At least he’s not blowing up the microwave anymore."
That got a chuckle out of everyone, even Rissa.
Bryce beamed, shoulders uncoiling. "Can I show them? After dinner?"
"Let’s clear the table first," Krystal said.
Bryce started stacking plates, hands moving fast, and that’s when it happened.
Mid-motion, he laughed, a sharp, wild sound, and all the forks and knives on the table jerked. In an instant, the silverware twisted, bending at sharp angles, a couple of spoons corkscrewing in place. It happened fast, the utensils clattering as they reshaped, then settling into a heap of metallic knots.
For a moment, no one breathed.
Then Bryce’s hands went still. He stared at the mess, horror stretching his face white. "I didn’t mean to," he whispered. His eyes darted to Krystal, then Nathan, then to me.
Krystal moved first, crossing to him in a heartbeat. She knelt, pulled his hands away from the tangle, and brushed the hair from his brow. "It’s okay, B. You’re safe. Breathe."
Nathan’s expression had gone cold, cop-mask back in place. He reached for a fork, studying the twist like it might be evidence in a case. Elle just looked fascinated.
I knelt next to Bryce, laying a hand on his shoulder. "It’s fine, bud. Accidents happen."
He met my eyes, and the fear in his face gutted me. "Will I do it again?"
"Maybe," I said. "But you’ll get better at it. Aurelia went through something like this when she was young." It hadn't been nearly this bad, but all witches had to learn.
He swallowed, then nodded, clinging to the words like a lifeline.
Krystal smoothed his hair. "You want to show Elle your game?"
He hesitated, then shot up, running for the living room. Elle followed, still wide-eyed.
Krystal, Nathan, Rissa and me, stood in the kitchen, the air thick with aftershock.
Nathan set the fork down. "He’s not just a kid, is he?"
Krystal drew herself up, ready to defend. "He’s our son."
Nathan’s jaw worked. "I know that. But this—" He gestured at the table. "If anyone else sees, it won’t be just a family issue. You know the council. They’ll want answers. Solutions."
I straightened, letting the dragon seep into my stance. "There are no answers. Only more problems. We’ll handle it."
Nathan stared me down, measuring. "You’d better."
He left the kitchen, muttering something about needing air. Rissa slipped after him, her face pinched with worry.
That left Krystal and me alone. She sagged against the counter, arms folded.
I came up behind her, hands on her shoulders. She shook, just a little, but leaned into me. "He’s not okay," she said. "I keep telling myself it’ll get easier, but…"
I kissed her neck, just above the place my mark had already faded to a faint crescent. "We’ll figure it out. One day at a time."
She turned, searching my face. "What if I’m not enough? What if none of us are?"
I cupped her cheek. "Then we try harder. We don’t quit."
She nodded, a thin smile finding its way back.
We joined the kids in the living room. Bryce and Elle were shouting at the TV, both intent on getting their frogs across the river in one piece. For the first time all night, Bryce didn’t look scared. He just looked like a kid, beating the game and laughing with his cousin.
