She leans against my shoulder, and I wrap an arm around her. We sit like that for a while—her dripping seawater, me drinking coffee, the sun warming both of us.
“You’re using your voice more.”
“Evie… She’d want me to live, to move forward, to use whatever tools I have—signing, speaking, both—to be present in my own life.” I pause, then add, “She’d want me to be happy. And I am, here, with you. With them.” I gesture toward thevilla where Dredyn’s probably burning breakfast and Talon’s definitely still asleep.
“So, using your voice more… that’s part of being happy?”
“It’s part of closing the chapter on who I was and opening the one on who I’m becoming.”
“I’m proud of you.”
“Thank you, for never making me feel like I had to be different than I am.”
“You don’t have to thank me for basic decency.”
“Yes, I do, because it’s not basic. Dredyn learned sign language in three months. Talon already knew some. You learned it in weeks and never once asked me to ‘just speak’ because it was easier for you.”
“That would have been a dick move.”
“Yes, but people make dick moves all the time. You didn’t—none of you did.”
She kisses my shoulder. “Because we love you—all of you. Verbal, nonverbal, signing, speaking, all of it.”
“Valen wants me to call him later. I think they’re getting close to figuring out how to take out his father.”
“Should we do something? Help more?”
“Valen says no. Says we did our part, and that it’s their turn to finish it.”
“Do you believe him?”
“I want to, want to believe we can just stay here, be happy, let someone else carry the weight.” I look at her. “But I also know how this works, how people die when they underestimate the enemy.”
“Then we trust they won’t underestimate them.”
“And if they do?”
“Then we help, however we can. But Jasper, we can’t live in constant fear. Can’t spend every morning checking for bad news. We have to live—reallylive. That’s what we fought for.”
She’s right. She’s always right about this stuff.
I pull her closer, pressing my lips to her temple. “I love you.”
“I love you too.”
We sit like that until the coffee goes cold and the sun climbs higher. Then we stand, brush off sand, and walk back toward the villa, hand in hand.
Inside, chaos reigns. Dredyn’s cursing at the stove where something is definitely burning and Talon’s laughing from the doorway. Ghost is on the counter, knocking over a coffee mug.
“A little help?” Dredyn calls out when he sees us.
“You’re on your own. I’m not touching that disaster,” Talon says, still laughing.
“Jasper?” Dredyn looks at me hopefully.
I could sign that he’s hopeless, could stay silent and just fix whatever he’s destroyed.
But instead, I speak. “Move. You’re banned from the stove until you take a cooking class.”
