Gray closes his book. "The schedule has room in it," he says. "Tomlinson built it that way."
"Room for what," Leo says.
Gray looks at the room. "For this."
Leo is quiet for a moment. Then, "Okay."
There’s a knock at the door. No one moves at first. Leo lifts his head. “If that’s a surprise evaluation, I’m not dressed for it.”
“It’s not,” Dalton says, already on his feet.
He opens the door. Tomlinson stands on the step, a box in his hands.
“Apologies for the hour,” he says. “These were just finished. Alexandra insisted they be delivered immediately.”
“You are interrupting,” Leo says.
Tomlinson ignores him. Steps inside, taking in the room in one glance — the fire, the arrangement, all of us exactly where we are.
Something in his expression settles.
“I thought you might like these,” he says, holding out the box. “Congratulations on the entire group of you becoming official Frosthaven students. Tomorrow is… significant.”
Jake takes it. Opens it.
Cupcakes. Frosted badly. Uneven.
“Did you make these,” Leo says.
“No,” Tomlinson says. “That would have been irresponsible, Ash and Alexandra made them.”
“Good call,” Leo says.
Tomlinson looks at me.
“You’ve done something difficult,” he says. Not loud. Not formal. “All of you.”
A beat.
“And I wanted you to know, I am proud of you.”
He doesn’t stay for a response.
He nods once, to Dalton, to the room, and steps back out into the cold.
The door closes.
Leo looks at the box.
“Well,” he says. “We’ve been officially cupcaked.”
RJ hasn't said anything. He's been still against my legs through all of it, watching the fire, his hand warm on my ankle. Through the bond he's here — present, tracking, not retreating.
Dalton's hand finds mine.
"You're thinking," he says. Low.
"Always," I say.
