Aurora bumps her hip into mine. “You volunteered.”
“Let’s not rewrite history.”
Delaney laughs. Sloane gives me that soft, knowing look that says she sees entirely too much for a Saturday morning. Bless her, she’s basically at the waddling stage of pregnancy now. Must be hard,
Lani hands Aurora something wrapped in paper. “Eat. You look like you’re running on caffeine and stubbornness.”
Aurora takes it without argument, which is honestly growth.
I settle in at the edge of the group, close enough to reach her if I need to. Far enough that she doesn’t feel glued to my side.
It’s a balance. I’m working on it.
They fall into conversation easily. Founders Day planning. Decorations. Logistics. Cakes. The kind of normal, grounded stuff that makes this place become something you can actually build a life inside.
Aurora gets pulled into it without hesitation.
I watch her talk, hands moving, eyes bright, already solving problems that haven’t even been fully explained yet. There’s something about seeing her in this way that settles in my chest.
She fits here. That’s the problem, because I don’t know if she’s ready to make this town her own…
She laughs at something Ivy says, and for a second, it’s easy to forget everything.
Then someone brushes past her a little too close, and I see it… the flicker. The quick recalculation.
“…I will not have that happen in my town…”
The voice is a snake creeping down my spine.
That fucking voice…
I flip around to seehim.
Benjamin Wren stands near one of the vendor stalls, dressed as a man in a brochure about responsible civic leadership. Blazer. Clean lines. Polished smile.
As if he didn’t stand in that council meeting and try to choke the life out of The Hollow with paperwork. And he’s not part of the reason Aurora had blood on her hands two days ago.
My jaw locks, hard.
I don’t think. That’s the issue. Thinking is a luxury, and this… this is instinct.
I move before I’ve fully decided to, and when Aurora says my name behind me, it’s already too late.
Wren turns just as I step into his space, and he glares at me as if I were an inconvenience.
That doesn’t help.
“Benjamin Wren,” I snap. “Fancy seeing you out in the wild.”
He straightens slightly, smoothing his jacket, acting as if this is a normal conversation between normal people.
“Mr. Reilly,” he replies. “Enjoying the market?”
I let out a short laugh that has no humor in it. “You’ve got a lot of nerve showing your face here.”
His expression doesn’t change. “I’m a member of this community.”
“Yeah?” I step closer. “Because from where I’m standing, it looks like you’re trying to dismantle it piece by piece.”
