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How would that even…? You know what – no. Not going there.

‘Don’t be gross. It’s not even like that.’ I point at them. It’s my judgey finger too. I wave it in their faces. Feel the judgement, you fiends.

‘Oh yeah, what’s it like?’ I hate it when Delilah grins like that – with all her teeth. She looks like a harpy. I pull my finger back to safety before she takes it.

I panic. ‘Like… like… like a father.’ I cringe when the word leaves my mouth. Walker most definitely does not give me father vibes. I don’t know what father vibes are. I’ve never even had one.

‘Right.’ Who says it, I don’t know. I’m too busy descending into rabid mortification.

There’s a beat of silence between the three of us, and I use the moment to calm myself and contemplate a muzzle.

‘So, you callin’ him daddy?’

‘Delilah!’

‘I’ve gotta admit, you having an incest kink was not on my bingo card, but okay, freaky girl, go off.’

Lavender slaps her knee trunk and just about keels over laughing.

‘You two are insufferable and I regret introducing you.’

Chapter Twenty-One

The Game

‘Walker.’

‘Yes, Chaos?’

We’ve never met here before. Usually when I dream, he finds me among my memories. A few scant times down at the couch or wandering the house. Once in my room. But never in his.

‘Did you bring me here?’

‘No.’ A well of information, per usual.

‘Then why am I here?’

‘You must have missed me.’ I won’t say anything to that. He can always tell when I’m lying, so I’ve learnt to just shut my mouth when he says something honest I’d like to disagree with. He turns from his seat at the piano. He’s wearing grey slacks and a singlet. I’ve never seen him in slacks. Or a singlet. Lots of never being un-nevered this eve.

‘How was work?’

‘A nightmare,’ he says.

‘No luck finding what you’re looking for?’

‘Oh, I’ve found it,’ he laughs bitterly.

‘Then what’s wrong?’

‘It’s…I want to keep it,’ he says quietly, like the room has ears and they’re all turned to listen.

‘Can you do that?’

He looks at me, then. It’s the most fallible I’ve ever seen him. I do the merciful thing and let him off the hook.

‘You missed a hell of an episode.’ I pull up an upturned crate and sit beside the piano.

‘Do tell.’ He turns to face me. His biceps flex when his hands find purchase on the edge of the stool. Stars. What were we talking about?