Adri’s laugh sounded tired. “He’d never hurt plants.”
Maybe I should get my own hair dryer. Just in case. “Come on.” I wrapped my arm around him. “Let’s get you to bed.”
“Oh.” The lines on his arms glowed brightly as he picked me up and floated us toward the stairs. “Will you fuck me?”
I laughed, ignoring the stares and murmurs as he carried me to his room. “Anytime.”
EPILOGUE
Adri
Isat in the front seat of Sam’s van—theirvan—basking in the sparse rays breaking through the gray clouds. A passenger in their family network.
The children carried bags and crates from the house, calling out the contents as they passed and dropped them to the ground behind the van. I was a passenger with a task.
Sam had sent me their canoe day checklist—his way of making me feel included. And it worked. Instead of being an afterthought in a process they’d perfected over the years, they’d made space for me, made me a participant. It put me at ease—not lost, not in the way. They’d fitted me into their routine, even if all I carried were a few batteries and my drawing pad. I would’ve been happy to put them in my pockets, but they’d all protested.
Bethany had given me a blue dry bag and a Sharpie to label it. Her efficient welcome gesture sent sparks along my system. That bag sat on top of the first crates Evan had slotted into the back of the van. He smiled at me as he added more, shuffling, sliding, and shoving them into place like a defragmenting drive.
Before long, he closed the back doors, while Alex and Ella ran back to the house, shouting about banana pancakes.
“Sam said to remind you it’s okay if you want to stay out here during breakfast,” Evan said as he locked the side door.
I nodded but checked the list one last time and got out of the van. “That’s okay. I’d like to join.”
Sam made the chaos tolerable. Staying outside would only make me more nervous—and undo all their lovely efforts to include me. Just like they had that first dinner when they’d realized I didn’t need their food for sustenance.
I wasn’t nervous about rowing a boat or swimming—I’d grown up on an island. Despite rumors to the contrary, Niren couldn’t fly. We weren’t drones. Even when we floated, we were still firmly rooted to the Earth.
“I’m glad you’re joining us today. He’s been a bit grumpy.”
Sam had admitted no such thing in our chats, but Quinn had. We exchanged more art than words, yet Sam’s name had popped up frequently since I’d left for Niralen. Two long weeks of performing my princely duties and smiling at people—the longest I’d been away since moving into the Renversé Hotel back in October.
“Adri.”
I stopped at the heavy note in Evan’s otherwise light voice. “Yes?”
“I feel obliged to repay the threat your family uttered toward Sam.” His relaxed stance, the twinkle in his eyes, all pointed to Evan not being serious. All but his voice. “While wielding deadly flowers is not my thing, I’ve designed enough secret spaces in my career to know where to hide bodies, and I’m quite handy with a paddle.”
He couldn’t have said “welcome” any louder than this. Any nervousness I still felt toward him fell away. As kind as he’d been during that first dinner—as they all had been—he’dseemed the most distant of them all. I nodded solemnly. “I understand.”
Evan guffawed and slapped my shoulder. “Good. Now. Let’s get this family day on the road.”
Contrary to our previous meals, breakfast was quiet and quick, and the smell of the banana pancakes—sweet or not—made me want to try them. Another time. Two firsts in one day was too much.
The drive, on the other hand, had me dialing my noise filters up all the way, even from the front seat, beside Sam. By the time we reached the boating club, I had a crick in my neck from sitting half-turned to take in the happy family sing-along. Even Quinn—wearing the headphones I’d upgraded with a similar noise filter—joined in.
Once the boats were packed and the van locked, Sam guided me toward a kayak built for two. I only knew it was a kayak because I’d studied the reference links he sent after I kept confusing them—including the website for their club.
He wrapped his arm around me. “Thank you for coming.”
Pleasure zinged through me. He’d whispered something similar into my ear last night. “How could I say no to Ella?” She’d inserted herself into our last chat, eager about their first lake outing of the year.
Sam laughed. “Even when she calls you Airy?”
Her cute face, scrunched up in concentration as she pronounced ther—completely missing thed—still made me smile. That, and the pride and love in everyone’s eyes, despite Tammy’s attempt to shrug it off with a, “She’s five, just go with it.”
How could I complain when she called Sam coffee? “Yes. Even then.”
