And I’m also learning that Cayzor of Eight, the scarred, scary Fever Brother, an Illibrium miner on Timbur, loves children. He reaches over without being asked and steadies Rux’s high chair when the boy rocks it too hard. He allows Lia to climb half into his lap to show him something, and his harsh face goes soft — actually soft, the scar and all — in a way I’ve never once seen it, and my heart skips in my chest.
He’d be gentle with a baby.
The thought arrives before I can stop it, unwelcome and enormous, my hand drifting to my stomach again under the table.
I take another sip of water, focusing on smiling and joining the conversation around me.
And down the table, something is happening to my brother that I have literally never seen before.
Andrew isbombing.
I don’t understand it. My brother walks into a room of strangers and owns it inside five minutes, it’s his whole thing, his one true superpower, the reason crews adopt us on every planet in every sector. He’s charming, funny andwarm, and it works on everyone, always, without fail, no matter the species or posting.
It is not working here.
He’s trying, I can see him trying, telling the good stories, the grid-disaster ones, the self-deprecating bits that always land, and they’re just… not landing. The brothers are perfectly polite. They pass him food, they answer his questions, nobody’s rude. But his jokes drop into these little pools of silence and then somebody changes the subject. His best stories get a courteous nod and nothing more. The room simply will notopento him, and I can see it starting to rattle him. He leans harder into the charm, turning it up, and the harder he pushes the more the family seems to quietly shut down.
I don’t get it. These are the warmest people I’ve ever met. They foldedmein the moment I arrived. Why won’t they give my brother an inch?
It’s when the conversation drifts to the family’s history that Andrew finds his footing again, or thinks he does. “Can I ask,” he says, in his gentlest, most sympathetic voice, the one that’s gotten strangers to tell him their whole lives on transport platforms. “Stop me if it’s too much, but I heard about your parents. That must’ve been… god. And is it true it was never solved? That whoever did it just got away with it?”
The table doesn’t go cold, exactly, but something passes between the brothers.
“It happened a long time ago,” Chief answers.
“What do you think of the meat sticks?” Trunk loudly asks me, trying to change the subject.
But Andrew tries once more, “It just seems like the kind of thing a family would never stop looking into…”
And beside me, Cayzor goes very still. He doesn’t say anything and doesn’t move, but his dark eyes are narrowed on Andrew. Uh oh. “We don’t talk about it anymore,” Cayzor announces, shutting down the subject.
My brother frowns, but then lets it go, moving on to another topic.
I decide Andrew’s just being kind, trying to connect. Beinginterested, the way he is, the way that makes everyone love him, and it touches me that he cares about Cayzor’s family enough to ask. That’s my brother, always wanting to understand people.
I decide that, and let the prickle go, and reach for more of Jana’s incredible food.
“Cayzor,”I ask, a little later, “can you please pass me the potatoes again?”
“Cayzor?” Hallie says, confused. “You call him Cayzor?” She blinks and looks over at her brother-in-law. “Is that alright with you, Scar?”
“Yes,” he answers. “I requested that Mara Wilson calls me Cayzor.”
The whole table is quiet for a moment, and then they nod and carry on.
Hmm. Weird. It’s true that nobody here calls him Cayzor. I’ve heard it all night — Scar, Scar, Scar, from every brother and every bride and even the kids. And I just saidCayzor, easy as anything, because that’s his name, because it’s what he gave me.
By the endof the meal, somehow, I’m one of them.
I don’t know when it happened, but there’s a baby in my arms at some point. Naomi presses Bay into my hands so she can eat with both of hers, casual as anything, like of course I’ll hold him. And it’s true, I’m thrilled to hold him. Jana’s making me promise to come to the next courtyard night, whatever that is, and Hallie’s telling me a story about her first week here that has me crying and laughing.
And sadly, it’s the complete opposite for my brother. Andrew’s still there, still charming, still trying and they are polite, but he’s not being treated like family.
I can’t understand why.
They send us off warm, the brides hugging me.
Jana points a stern finger. “Courtyard night next month, you’re coming, no argument.”
