Page 99 of Monstrous Serpent

The smell changes fast. Pepper first, then butter, then meat underneath it.

My shoulders loosen.

Mrs. Jenkins lowers the heat before reaching for a measuring cup. “This is where people rush it.” She pours slowly, and steam rolls up from the pan. “Too hot, it breaks. Too low, it never comes together.”

The whisk moves steadily through the pan. Slow circles. Same pressure. No wasted motion.

My breathing slows, and the muscles in my back unclench. I lean closer, watching as the sauce turns glossy.

“What’s your favorite dish to cook?”

The tips of my ears heat, and I rub the back of my neck. “Meatloaf. It’s nothing fancy.”

“It’s a good dish. Cody even likes it for sandwiches. But I don’t understand why he insists on using ketchup.” She chuckles. “He used to put ketchup on everything—mac and cheese, pizza, spaghetti.”

The corners of my mouth lift a bit. “Sounds disgusting.”

She looks at me, her smile bright. “You don’t have to tell me. I even caught him squirting the bottle directly into his mouth once.”

For fuck’s sake. He sounds like Atlas.

Mr. Jenkins walks into the kitchen. “Smells good.”

“Hunter’s been a big help.” She leans to the side, and Mr. Jenkins kisses her cheek. “Everything okay up there?”

He looks at her, then at me, then at her.

Her smile falls. “Oh.”

“Ma’am, I’ll talk to him.”

She nods. “Maybe that would help.”

As I walk out of the kitchen, Atlas and Davis come back inside with Blue. I jerk my head toward the stairs, and he follows.

Not sure which room belongs to Jenkins, but only two doors are closed. Atlas opens the first.

Bathroom.

I walk to the second and open it, not bothering to knock.

Jenkins is lying on his bed, tossing a lacrosse ball toward the ceiling. He doesn’t bother looking at us.

Atlas shuts the door. “Hey, Little J.”

No response.

The ball goes up. Comes down. Up again. Then down.

I cross my arms, stance widening. “What’s going on?”

Jenkins huffs, then sits up. “I got a bad grade on something that I actually worked hard on. That’s it. Not exactly a crisis.”

I glare at him.

He rolls his eyes. “Can you not do the whole murder statue thing right now?”

Atlas snorts.