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“There’s more in the kitchen,” Lucian argues, laughing despite himself.

Marcus shakes his head, feigning a look of grave concern.

“Now his wish won’t come true.”

“Yeah, it will.” Reese says it quietly, but his eyes cut to mine as though the statement means more than anyone else realizes.

Seeing them like this makes me wonder what it was like growing up in this house as the third generation. Edwin never talks about his childhood. The wound of losing his parents is still too fresh.

“So, what are we doing tonight?” Tristan asks as he closes the piano lid gently. “Ophidia?”

“Absolutely not.” Edwin shuts that down fast.

“Let’s play a game,” Marcus suggests. He turns to me, eyes bright with excitement. “You want to play a game with us?”

I grin at his childlike energy. “Yeah, I’ll play.”

Edwin looks like he wants to shut this down, but now I’ve made him feel obligated to comply.

He sighs. “What game?”

Marcus’ smile widens wickedly.

“Ghost in the graveyard.”

The six of us spill out of the manor together and into the evening air. Dusk falls over the bluff. The last scraps of daylight cling stubbornly to the treetops, turning the leaves into delicate black lace against the fading sky. Warmth lingers, softened by humidity that feels more like an embrace than a burden.

Lightning bugs rise from the grass and trees in bright pulses, making the lawn sparkle with gold. Somewhere around us, insects sing their evening songs.

It feels impossible that beauty this divine can exist in the same town as so much cruelty.

“What’s base?” Tristan asks, hands in his pockets like he doesn’t want to seem too interested.

“Not here,” Marcus says, already moving forward with a plan. He turns to me with a grin. “One of the perks of growing up next to a cemetery is playing this in an actual graveyard.”

“With actual ghosts,” Lucian deadpans.

After enough nights in Highstone Manor, I’m not entirely sure he’s joking.

“Mom and Dad can watch,” Marcus says, leading the way through the trees.

The path is flattened by years of footsteps. Branches knit together overhead, darkening the trail. Behind us, the manor disappears.

Tristan and Lucian drift closer to Edwin, talking with him about some memory from decades ago. I smile as I watch them. Edwin needed this reconnection with his brothers. For so long, grief kept him distant from everyone who loves him.

Reese slows his pace until he’s beside me, several steps behind the others.

“I don’t want you to feel on edge here,” he says. “This is your home now.”

Home? I hadn’t allowed myself to think it. I’ve been living like I’m passing through, assuming that after the Trials, everything would shift again.

But the thought of leaving Edwin is unbearable.

Even when he frightens me.

“I don’t want to impose,” I say. The urge to make myself smaller still lingers inside me. The instinct to apologize for existing.

Reese shakes his head. “Edwin chose you for a reason. As far as the Trials go, everyone knows you’re a better fit than Bridget.”