"Mine is." He says it with complete satisfaction. "Jonah reorganized our entire kitchen last week because I mentionedthat I couldn't reach the mugs. I didn't ask him to. He just did it." He sips his drink. "It's a good problem to have."
I look at Noah's pack moving around the yard—the easy way they orbit him, the small attentions, how one of them appears with sunscreen before he thinks to ask. The same language mine speaks. The same silent language of those who've chosen their person.
"Yeah," I say. "It is."
I go inside to get more ice and pass the bedroom on my way back.
The door is open.
The bed is enormous. We had it custom made because no standard size was going to accommodate five people sleeping in it and we stopped pretending that wasn't what was happening. There are separate bedrooms—five of them, outfitted and useable—and nobody uses them. We end up here every night, in the nest I've built, a shirt or two or three from each of them woven into the layering of it.
There are no schedules or rotations. We just end up wherever we end up, which is always here, in this bed, in this nest, together.
I stand in the doorway and just look at it.
Mine.
All of it.
I'm back outside when Finn appears beside me.
He doesn't say anything specific. He just looks at me, the corners of his eyes softening in a way I haven't seen in months.
"Okay?" I ask.
"Yeah," he says. And means it.
We're clearing the table when my phone rings.
Chase.
I step away from the noise to answer.
"Vee." His voice has that quality it gets when he's about to say something he'd rather not. "I wanted to let you know before it hit any official channels. Marie has disappeared from the registry."
I go still.
"What do you mean disappeared?"
"No trace. No record of her leaving. She was there two days ago and this morning she wasn't. The room was clean. Nothing left behind." A pause. "I'm looking into it."
"Is she—" I stop. "Is she okay?"
"I don't know yet." He pauses again. "I'll keep you informed. If you want me to."
I think for a second. “I do.”
"One more thing," Chase says. Then a pause that goes on too long. "Jasper left."
"Left where?"
"The pack. He packed his things about a week ago and walked out. Didn't break the bond. Just... left."
My eyes widen. "Where did he go?"
"We don't know. He's not answering calls. He’s been… struggling with some things. We haven’t been able to help him through it." Another pause. Chase's voice drops. "Arden's not doing well with it."
Of course he isn't.
