Page 134 of Ex Somnis

Not trapped.

Awake.

The relief is so profound that it becomes difficult to let myself feel it at all. So naturally, my brain decides to think about worst-case scenarios and circles back to the Strength card and Seraphine’s words.

“Sometimes we have to sacrifice ourselves for the ones we love.”

I dislike prophecies on principle. They are vague, unhelpful, and tend to arrive without actionable next steps. But if this ends badly for me, and given Seraphine’s track record, it probably will, I should at least update my will.

The house goes to Lennon. That part is obvious. I practically renovated it for her, and my woman needs a home. A real one. Not somewhere she’s temporarily staying while waiting for the next disaster to arrive.

The car goes to Nevan. But does he even have a driver’s license?

He gets the car anyway. He can figure the rest out.

And Ridge gets the plants, purely out of spite. I get exactly one second of satisfaction picturing him eighty years old and still arguing with a Ficus before my brain is already moving on to who gets the first-aid kit, to whether Renee would keep checking in on them the way she checks on me, to whether any of them would remember to water the…

“Is there food?”

I nearly drop the coffee scoop. Ridge is wheeling into the kitchen with Nevan close behind, and I have never in my life been so grateful for a stupid question.

“Define food,” I say, and my voice comes out steadier than I feel.

“Breakfast,” he delivers helpfully.

Nevan opens the refrigerator, already seeming at home here, something I notice with satisfaction, and looks inside. “There are eggs.” He looks over his shoulder at me. “I could make scrambled ones for everyone.”

Scrambled eggs. They’re a safe food with a texture I can predict, but I have no data on Nevan’s cooking.

Probability of a safe outcome—unclear.

Nevan’s face is open, the offer genuine, and I think about how I told him to trust us.

“Yes,” I say. “Thank you.”

He pulls the carton of eggs out, and before I can second-guess it, footsteps sound in the living room, and the nurse appears in the kitchen doorway.

“Dr. Bennett?”

“Yes? Is everything all right?”

“Everything looks very good.” She smiles. “I removed the nasal cannula and the catheter. Her vitals are stable, her oxygen levels look good, and her blood pressure is too. She’s a little weak, which is expected, but overall, she’s doing remarkably well. I will still inform the doctor on call to come and check on her.”

Nevan exhales loudly, and Ridge leans back in his chair.

“That’s encouraging,” I say, but my hands shake.

Now that I’ve thought about Seraphine’s prediction, I can’t get it out of my mind. I can’t stop picturing the three of them living here without me.

“Although, there is one thing,” the nurse says, grabbing my complete attention.

The coffee machine finishes with a hiss, but none of us look at it.

“I offered to help her shower,” she says quietly. “She refused. She said Dr. Bennett would help her instead.”

There’s a beat of silence, but then I’m moving. “Excuse me,” I say to no one in particular, walking straight to Ridge’s bedroom.

By the time I’m there, my hands are steady.