Page 64 of In Somnis

There’s an absolutely massive one at the center of the space, its branches strung with fairy lights that wind all the way up the trunk and disappear into the colorful leaves. Two swings hang from a single thick branch, with wooden seats suspended by ropes softened and darkened from use.

Behind the tree sits a small cottage with fresh paint and clean windows. There’s a tiny porch with a well-worn chair in the front. The little house fits here the same way the inn does, patched together with care, not money.

“That’s my place,” Jasper says proudly, watching me take it all in. “I’d show you around, but I brought everything out here so we wouldn’t wake my mom. She’s sleeping.”

Sympathy catches hard in my throat. Mom also slept a lot at the end.

Don’t project, Lenny.

I glance toward the cottage, then back at him. “Hey… next time, I should probably say hi to her. Properly. I don’t want her to think I just… show up and… steal her son or something.”

Jasper chuckles. “Why would she think that?”

I shrug. “I don’t know. I’m an adult, you’re still in high school. It’s… a look.”

“I’m an adult too! I’m almost nineteen.” He makes a face. “And I’m only still in high school because I had to repeat a year. Do you feel weird about it?”

“A bit.”

Jasper studies me for half a second, then smiles. “We’re meant to be friends. Honestly, the cards say we’re probably meant to be family, but that can mean a lot of things, so I’d have to pull your whole chart and ask the stars about it before I commit to that.”

Family?

I don’t have any family left, except for Tessa. And right now, she is somewhere I can’t reach, so for all practical purposes, I came here for the only person I have left, and she wasn’t home.

So no, I don’t have family. I have a yellow Beetle, a rented apartment, and an almost nineteen-year-old who just told me the universe has opinions about our friendship.

“You went quiet,” Jasper observes.

“Family is a big word.”

One I’m not touching without gloves right now.

“It doesn’t have to be blood,” he says simply. “Mine isn’t. My mom had us both very late. I don’t know my dad, and we don’t know Nevan’s dad either. So technically, Nevan is just my half brother. And Mabel, who is like an aunt to me, isn’t my blood at all. The stars and cards don’t care about biology. They care about… I don’t know. Resonance, I guess. Who you’re supposed to find.”

Supposed to find.

Like it’s already decided.

It’s either the most comforting thing I’ve ever heard or the most devastating.

“Jasper… I say that with genuine affection. You are not weird, but a lot.”

“I know.” He grins, hands me my coffee, then gestures toward the swings with his own. “But I’m also right. Now sit.”

I eye the nearest one, then the ropes, then the branch above it. “I don’t love trusting old ropes with my entire existence.”

“What?” He settles onto the other swing and glances up, curls bouncing as he laughs. “It holds Nevan, and he’s, like, at least a hundred pounds heavier than me.”

That does not reassure me in the way he thinks it does.

Still, I sit gingerly, testing the seat inch by inch. The rope creaks in protest, but to my surprise and relief, it holds.

Jasper takes a sip of the latte, then sighs. “Pumpkin spice. Nice.”

I let out a breath and grip the warm cup with one hand as he hands me a croissant before taking one for himself, munching greedily.

“So,” he says around a bite, feet dragging lightly through the grass. “How’d you sleep?”