Page 66 of Shadow

“I’m sure.”

Roger nodded slowly. “Good.” He glanced at Daphne. “I want pancakes for breakfast. Blueberry.”

The shift was so abrupt Asher almost laughed.

“This isn’t a resort, Roger.”

“I know. But I’m tired of protein shakes and eggs. I want pancakes.”

Asher stared at him.

Daphne said, “I’ll see what I can do.”

Roger disappeared into his room.

Daphne moved to the kitchen. “I’ll make hot cocoa. You want some?”

“Yeah. Thanks. I’ll take out the garbage.”

Sheesh, the whole domestic thing might be going to his head. He opened the garage, brought the can to the end of the driveway just as the sky opened up. Rain pinged down on him, freezing droplets that shivered down his shirt. Across their tiny lawn to the other house, Mark was also pulling out his can. Asher lifted a hand to him like, Howdy, neighbor.

Oh brother.

Mark acknowledged him and ran back to the house, the leaves of the big oak in his front yard shaking off in the wind.

Asher ran back to the house too, soaked through.

Daphne was pulling out the mugs as Asher did a final security check. Cameras functioning—check. Perimeter clear—check. Motion sensors armed—all good.

Outside, the rain picked up, pinging harder against the windows. The wind kicked up too, and when he returned to the kitchen, two mugs of hot cocoa sat on the counter. Daphne had added marshmallows to his.

“Thanks for this,” Asher said, shivering a little.

“You should change out of the wet clothes.”

He looked at her. “Worried about me?”

“No.” She took a sip of her cocoa. “But the last thing we need is for you to get sick.”

“You are worried. That’s very sweet, honeycakes.”

“On second thought, go stand in the rain.”

He grinned. And she did too.

Then she slid onto one of the counter stools. Wrapped her hands around her mug. Steam rising. Marshmallows melting.

“I get the pancake thing,” she said and nodded at Roger’s room. “My happiest memory is eating pancakes with my dad.”

Asher stilled.

“He’d come home after his shift. Three a.m., sometimes four a.m. Late-night patrol. And instead of going to bed, he’d wake me up and we’d go to Millie’s Diner.”

“Wait—the one out on Route 40? Where we⁠—”

“Yep, that one. I stopped there because, you know…habit.” She gave him a soft smile. “It would be just the two of us. He’d order the blueberry special. I’d get chocolate chip. And he’d quiz me.”

“Quiz you?”