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Rook. His eyes moved over my face. He knew. Maybe not everything. But enough.

“You good?”

“Perfect.”

His eyebrows went up. “Convincing.”

“Shut up.”

He bumped his shoulder lightly against mine.

I bumped him back.

Across the room, Megan laughed at something Declan said.

I stabbed a fork into a piece of broccoli. Hard.

Rook looked down at it. “Did that one do something to you?”

“Does it seem smart to mess with me when I have a weapon in my hand?” I waved the fork as a vague threat in his direction.

He snorted. “Adorable.”

The doorbell rang again. This time it was Sadie. Thank God.

“I'm coming in!”

“Come in!” three people yelled back.

The door opened. A few seconds later Sadie appeared in the kitchen in her usual uniform of black T-shirt, faded jeans and beat-up sneakers. Sadie dressed like color had personally offended her.

She took in the room. Me. Megan. Declan. Then me again.

Her face didn't change. That was why she was my best friend. “Hey,” she said.

“Hey.”

She walked directly to me. “You need help?”

“Yes.”

“With what?”

“Everything.”

“Okay.” She didn't ask. Not yet. She just stood beside me and started helping.

Dad showed up a few minutes later, letting himself in without knocking because nobody in either family had knocked in years.

Ben Hollis, my cross-country coach, came through the back door with a bag of rolls tucked beneath one arm. He was still in what amounted to his usual uniform—school polo untucked over jeans.

He lived alone, which Dad and Riot seemed to consider a problem that could be solved with enough supper invitations. He’d been coming often enough that Marion pointed him toward the bread basket without interrupting her conversation.

“Thought we’d lost you,” Dad called from the dining room.

“Had to finish some work,” Ben told him, setting the rolls beside me. “Y’all haven’t been waiting, have you?”

“We don’t wait,” Ruckus said. “We redistribute.”