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They shot each other sly glances.

“Now.”

One of them passed over the papers. The top page showed a cartoon bear standing beside a picnic basket with the words:

FLETCHER FAMILY WELCOME GUIDE

PLEASE DO NOT FEED AFTER DARK

I closed my eyes. “Where were you planning to put these?”

“Nowhere,” the taller twin said.

I narrowed my eyes. “You printed at least twenty.”

He shrugged. “We like having backups.”

“You were warned at the last movie night.”

Aaron lowered his cape. “It’s only a joke.”

“The bear crossing signs were a joke. The fake fish were a joke. Leaving baskets beside the Fletchers’ mailbox was a joke. But none of it is funny. You were told to apologize and leave them alone.”

The floor suddenly became fascinating to them.

“The Fletchers haven’t done anything to you,” I continued. “They live nearby, they share protected land access when needed, and Mr. Fletcher helped repair the lower bridge last winter. You don’t get to antagonize them because you found bear memes online.”

The shorter twin looked up. “Trevor sends bear memes.”

“Trevor is seventeen and regularly makes decisions that result in meetings.”

Trevor called from the kitchen, “I heard that.”

“You were meant to.”

I tore the stack of papers in half and handed it back.

“Throw these away. And I better not hear of any more pranks on the Fletchers. Do you understand me?”

Aaron’s face fell, but they left without arguing.

Byron watched them go. “You should’ve made them run laps around the hall.”

I waved him off. “Go help Julie.”

Grumbling, he carried a stack of plates to the kitchen, though not before giving me a look that suggested my sentencing guidelines lacked the necessary impact.

I checked the clock. Sloane was due any minute.

The memory of last night in her apartment—Sloane covered in flour and holding my shirt while I kissed her—moved to the surface again. Every time I closed my eyes, I could feel her mouth against mine and her fingers curling into the fabric of my shirt.

Tonight would be different.

Private attraction was easy to contain when nobody else witnessed it. Walking into the hall together as a couple would turn speculation into fact.

The family already knew we’d gone on a date. Trevor had circulated the Golden Wok Wall of Fame photograph before we returned to Sloane’s apartment, and Grandma Ruth had reacted with six heart emojis, three of which she sent separately because she believed each deserved its own message.

Nobody knew about the kiss. Except Patty.