I leave the door cracked two inches, enough for sound, enough for light.
Enough.
The next morning, Finn makes pancakes for all of us, doing what he can to make everything feel better.
“They’re medicinal,” he says, sliding a plate toward Aurora.
“That’s not how pancakes work,” I tell him.
He points the spatula at me. “You don’t know that.”
“I do.”
Ryder sits at the end of the table, coffee gone cold in his hand, staring at nothing useful.
Aurora notices before anyone says anything. “You haven’t eaten.”
Ryder’s eyes move to her as he comes back from somewhere farther away than the kitchen. “I’m fine.”
Finn snorts. “Which is code for ‘I’m about to become a haunting.’”
Aurora huffs a quiet laugh into her mug.
Good.
Ryder doesn’t smile, but his face loosens by a fraction. Barely there. Easy to miss if you aren’t looking.
I am.
He hasn’t slept properly since we brought her back, hasn’t let himself stop moving long enough to feel anything all the way through.
Every hour he’s not checking a perimeter, he’s making calls, tying off loose ends, talking to people who owe us answers, making sure Cole stays down, and anyone attached to him understands exactly what happens next if they breathe in our direction.
Useful work. Necessary work, also the kind a man does when blame’s starting to calcify under his ribs.
Aurora reaches for the syrup.
Finn starts talking about installing a moat.
Arlo comes upstairs long enough to tell us the beer delivery’s late and then leaves before Finn can ask if alligators count as a tax write-off.
Life, trying awkwardly to come back, I let it, but I keep watching Ryder…
By evening, The Hollow has settled into its new shape.
Arlo works the bar for locals we trust, music stays low, the doors stay monitored, and every face gets checked twice.
Finn installed a cheerful little sign by the entrance that saysSMILE, YOU’RE ON CAMERA. I guess he thinks that somehow makes the six new surveillance points less ominous.
It doesn’t.
Aurora spends most of the time doing inventory at the bar because she asked for something normal to do, and none of us were stupid enough to argue with that.
I keep close without making it obvious.
She catches on anyway around six, and looks up from the liquor order sheets with one brow raised. “Are you shadowing me?”
“No.”
