Page 3 of What We Don't Say: Part One

Every time Theo’s name comes up, something in her face opens before she remembers to hide it. She wants the soft parts of this—the extra warmth, the growth, and an Omega who might fit into the spaces she is already imagining for him. She is alsowaiting for us to look at him and decide she was only keeping that space warm.

Every time Theo Mehra’s profile has come up, something in her face opens before she remembers to be careful. I know that look. I know every version of it. She wants this. She wants the soft parts of it, the growth, the extra warmth in the house, the possibility of an Omega who might fit into the corners she’s already imagining for him.

That’s the part that keeps twisting in my chest. She wants an Omega. She just doesn’t want us to look at him and decide she’s easier to move than our expectations.

“Theo’s profile really is my favorite,” she says, rinsing soap from a plate before setting it in the drying rack. Her voice is cautious, but there’s something real underneath it. “His notes look good. The low-light preference makes sense with the scent card, I think. It’s nice. Soft, but not weak.”

Garrett looks up from his laptop with a small, approving smile. “I thought you might respond well to him.”

Her hands slow in the sink before she reaches for another plate. I’ve memorized the card because she keeps touching its edge whenever she thinks no one’s watching. From the profile alone, Theo seems gentle enough to fit here and wounded enough to make every protective instinct in the house wake up.

“I think we all might,” she says quickly. “Sloane and Idris liked him too.” She twists toward him, her hair slipping from the scrunchy. “You spoke with the evaluator yesterday, right? What did he say?”

Garrett taps his pen once against the legal pad. “He said that Theo’s a traditional Omega. He’ll need some quiet spaces so he can integrate. Once we meet, if he does choose us, we’ll have to be ready. I’ve already set up the first meeting with Bellwether. Friday afternoon.”

Calliope stills. “Friday?”

There she is. The quick lift of her face, the spark in her eyes before she has a chance to bury it. Hope gets to her first, and for one second, my chest loosens because that’s my Callie. Soft and generous and already making room for someone she hasn’t even met.

“Yes,” Garrett continues, “and if he accepts, he’ll be moving in over the next week. Everything needs to be perfect.”

Callie turns back to the sink, but her gaze drifts toward the hallway as she starts listing rooms, linens, light levels, and every corner of the house that might give Theo somewhere quiet to breathe.

“The guest suite might be too large for a first nest,” she says. “At least at first. The sunroom gets the best afternoon light, but the smaller sitting room off the east hall stays warmer at night. If he likes enclosed spaces, the reading nook might actually be better.”

“I can switch the guest suite to the scent-free linens,” she continues, already reaching for the next plate. “And I can pull out the blue blankets from last winter. The soft ones, not the heavier wool. Maybe move the jasmine closer to the window? Unless that’s too much scent. I can check the profile again.”

Garrett’s smile warms by a fraction. “That’s exactly why this will work. You’re always so dependable, Calliope. An Omega like Theo will need that. Someone steady enough to make the house feel ready before the rest of us overwhelm him.”

The plate slips in her hand, enough for the porcelain to knock against the side of the sink with a small, wrong sound.

I push off the doorway as Callie recovers immediately. She sets the plate in the drying rack and reaches for a mug like nothing happened. “Of course. I can do that.”

Garrett doesn’t seem to notice the way the light goes out of her face but the way his words landed cut a little too deep for my liking.

Garrett closes one folder and reaches for another. “I have a call in ten. Callie, when you get a chance, would you make sure the scent-free set is still in the guest linen closet? No rush. I just want to know what we have before Friday.”

“Sure,” she says too quickly. “I’ll check.”

My jaw tightens.

Garrett glances at me then, his expression mild. “Sloane.”

“Garrett.”

He manages a nod, almost as if reminding me where I stand in the hierarchy of this pack,just below him.It worked six months ago when we became what we are but it grates on my nerves when he pulls rank. Like now, with this whole Omega thing. Friday wasn’t the plan. The plan was to have adiscussionbut I’m not going to fight with him on that, especially when Theo really does seem perfect.

“I’ll be in my office if Bellwether sends anything else through.”

Callie nods without looking at him. The second he’s gone, she starts scrubbing the mug in her hand like the ceramic personally offended her. I cross the kitchen behind her, slow enough that she can hear me coming.

“You’re over-rinsing that one, sweetheart,” I say, my voice low.

“The tea stains are stubborn.” She doesn’t look back. “Idris likes his Earl Grey strong, and the tannin just clings to the ceramic.”

“There aren’t any tea stains left.”

Her hands falter for half a second before she keeps going. I reach around her and turn off the faucet. “No, baby,” I murmur, my chest brushing her back. “Breathe for me. There you go. Now, I need you to tell me what’s going on because I thought we fixed this. What’s bothering you?”