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I keep walking, sliding up beside my sister and snatching the coffee right out of her hands.

“What’s going on?” I ask, voice tight.

Sophie shrugs like she’s trying to stay casual. “I’m not sure. Henry called Mags, said get everyone over here. So, here we are.”

“Yeah, you are,” Mercy drawls, swaggering over like he owns the place, elbow hitting the counter with a confident smack.

Sophie stiffens the second he’s close—like his presence sets her on edge—but that just seems to egg him on.

“And let me just say,” he grins, that smirk dangerous enough to curdle milk, “nothing makes a man believe in God like waking up and seeing you first thing, Angel.”

Sophie doesn’t even glance his way. “Then He must’ve hated you if that’s what you got blessed with.”

Mercy whistles low. “Ouch. You kiss your saints with that mouth?”

Finally, Sophie locks eyes with him, razor sharp and fearless. “Never met one, but when you find him, send him over. I’ll kiss him…with both sets of lips.”

Half the room bursts into laughter, while the other half shudders like they just got slapped. Vic’s laugh cuts through it all, loud and proud from the booth, rattling the windows. “Boy, she won that one!”

I’m caught somewhere between “What the hell just happened?” and “Please, God I don’t want to hear this ever again” when Henry stumbles in—looking like he fought a war and lost. His face is marked with scratches, raw red streaks cutting across his cheek.

Scratches? My heart lurches before my brain can stop me. I’m across the room in a heartbeat, frustration and fear knotted tight in my chest. My hand shoots up, grabbing his jaw hard, turning his face this way and that as I trace the angry lines.

“Who the fuck did this?” My voice slices through the noise, cold and sharp.

His fingers curl around mine, rough but steady, grounding me. Time slows—everything else blurs out except his eyes, flickering with something I can’t place: pain, exhaustion, something raw and unreadable. He sucks in a breath like it’s been too long since he’s had one that deep.

Then, slow and deliberate, he lifts my hand to his lips, brushing a soft kiss across my knuckles—the kind of touch that feels like a lifeline. The world hushes around us, everything shrinks.

A throat clears behind us, brutal and loud.

Reality slams into me like a punch. Heat burns my cheeks, scorching. I had just marched over, grabbed his face like he was mine to guard, demanded answers like I owned the damn place.

I don’t even need to glance around. Every eye in the diner is drilling into us—silent witnesses to this moment of rawness. I try to pull away, but he won’t let go. Holds my hand like he’s scared if he does, I’ll disappear. No, he knows I will.

“Louisiana,” he says, and there’s something in his voice—something frayed and raw that makes my chest ache. “There isn’t a place, a time, or a God damn version of this universe where you don’t have the right to ask. To care.”

His thumb brushes across my knuckles, slow and reverent. “I’ve been a lot of things in this life—lost, angry, broken—but I’ve only ever belonged to one place. And that’s you, wildflower.”

Those hazel eyes peel me back layer by layer—steady, unrelenting. Green ringed with the richest brown I’ve ever seen. Brown like the caramel that melts down the side of a sundae on a summer afternoon, warm and slow, sweet in a way that sneaks up on you.

Eyes that don’t just look at me—but through me. Like they’ve always known every version of me I’ve tried to hide.

“Yeah, so much so he tattooed it right on his chest all poetic and shit.”

And just like that, Mercy shatters the fragile moment. Henry releases my hand, tossing me a wink before he turns to address everyone. I slide between Evie and my sister at the breakfast bar, my face heating up as I refuse to look anyone in the eye.

He runs a tired hand through his thick hair making it stand on end. “I gathered you all here, because I’ve stumbled across…something that I’m going to need all of you for.”

Henry stands there, looking like he’s struggling to find the words. It’s almost like something invisible is pulling him towards his mama, and he finally takes a spot beside her, leaning into the quiet support she’s always been so good at offering. Maggie gives him a warm, reassuring smile, the kind only a mother can give, and encourages him to keep going.

He clears his throat, his voice tired as he begins. “As you can probably tell just by looking at me, I’ve had a long night. Yesterday, Cece got a call that someone stumbled across a makeshift campsite out at Bunky’s.”

The room goes still. You can almost hear everyone inhale at the same time, the tension thickening as we all remember the last time that place came up. Then, as if she’s shining some light into the room, Evie, as always, plays the role of the God damn sun. She sits there, unbothered, and says, “Oh, come on, you guys, it’s just a place. Right, Allie?”

Allie, ever the calm one, gives her a slight nod and a wink. “That’s right.”

Henry clears his throat, the weight behind it like a warning. “Anyways, I went out there to meet the guy who made the call, and we stumbled on…”