Sage shook his head, but he was grinning now—a little flushed, something brighter in his eyes than before.
He leaned back against the counter again, shoulder brushing Law’s without pulling away.
The contact stayed, easy and unforced, like it belonged there.
“Seriously,” Law said, quieter now, pointing out their closeness. “You always like this in the morning, or am I getting special treatment?”
Law let that sit for a second. Watched the younger man.
“Yeah,” Sage said finally. “You are.”
Sage blinked as if surprised by his own words, then huffed a breath that didn’t quite hide the smile pulling at his mouth.
“Good to know,” Law smirked.
Micah’s voice came in, light. “Neither of you are subtle.”
Sage pointed at him without looking as red crept into his face. “You’re not helping.”
“Figured you should know,” Micah said, mouth twitching.
Winter pushed off the wall, eyes on Sage, something almost amused under it. “Or was last night research?”
A few siblings snickered.
Sage flicked Winter a look. “I was off the clock.”
“That what we’re calling it now?”
“That’s exactly what we’re calling it.”
Another laugh from the table.
Law didn’t step back.
Didn’t move away.
And Sage didn’t either.
The vibration in his pocket cut through the noise, and Law almost grimaced. That call surely meant work.
“Viper,” he said, pulling his phone free from his pocket.
The kitchen didn’t quiet, not really—but something in the rhythm of it changed. Voices dipped, laughter softened at the edges, people listening without making it obvious.
The shift moved through the room like a current, subtle but immediate.
“Sorry, Law—got another body,” Viper said.
Law sighed.
The warmth of the room stayed—but it no longer sat at the center. Something cooler edged in, steady and familiar.
The grounding held, but it shifted—different now, edged with purpose.
“Understood,” he said.
Across the room, his mother turned, already reading it in his face.
