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“Dad!” Winnie called from the treehouse. “Chuck! Come see! I figured out how to arrange everything so there’s room for all three of us to sit up here!”

They climbed the ladder to find Winnie beaming with pride at her organizational achievement. The treehouse, designed to comfortably seat two adults or several children, had indeed been cleverly arranged to accommodate three if they squeezed—with cushions positioned strategically and books stacked in neat piles along the edges.

“See? Now we can all read,” Winnie explained, patting the cushion beside her. “Together.”

Winnie said it like it was already settled. Now we can all read. Together. A real family.

He glanced at Niall, whose expression suggested he was having similar thoughts—a mixture of surprise and quiet happiness.

“Brilliant work, missy.” Chuck squirmed back into the squashy cushion she’d designated as his. “You’re a spatial genius.”

Winnie turned. “What’s spatial?”

“It means you’re good at figuring out how things fit together in a three-dimensional space,” Niall explained as he took the remaining cushion. “And Chuck’s right. This is some stellar decorating you’ve done.”

Winnie beamed at the praise, then picked up the Nancy Drew she’d apparently been reading before they arrived. “Can we start our new book tonight? Please? One chapter?”

“It’s pretty late, bug,” Niall began, always the practical one. “Plus we have a big day tomorrow.”

“One chapter,” Winnie pleaded, her eyes wide and imploring. “It’ll help me sleep better. Besides, Chuck does all the best voices.”

“Only ’cause you do the best Nancy.” Chuck shook his head. In the months since he started reading to Winnie at bedtime, he’d developed quite a repertoire of character voices, each more outlandish than the last. It had become one of his favorite parts of their evolving routine—these quiet moments when the day was winding down, just the three of them, lost together in a gentle mystery.

“One chapter,” he agreed, looking to Niall for confirmation. “If your dad says it’s okay.”

Niall sighed, but it was the fond sigh of a parent who knows when he’s beaten. “One chapter. But then straight home and to bed. We need to be back here early tomorrow to finish setting up.”

“Deal!” Winnie thrust The Clue of the Broken Locket into Chuck’s hands with shameless triumph. “You start. You do the narrator best.”

As Chuck began to read, his voice shifted into the bombastic tone he’d adopted for this particular narrator, the moment indelible and so clear. Winnie’s elbow dug into his thigh, Niall’s shoulder warm against his, and the platform he’d bolted to the studs himself held all three of their weights without a creak.

He’d chased the adrenaline his whole life—new project, new city, new bed. This was the opposite of that rush, and for once he didn’t miss it.

One chapter turned into two at Winnie’s insistence and with Niall’s reluctant permission. By the time they climbed down from the treehouse and locked up the store, the May night had deepened, and stars were sprinkled across the clear sky above Candle Bay.

“Can Chuck stay over again tonight?” Winnie asked as they climbed the stairs, her small hand slipped trustingly into Chuck’s. “He makes the coolest pancakes in the morning.”

Chuck and Niall exchanged a glance over her head. Chuck had been spending more and more nights at Niall’s house, to the point where he had his own drawer in the bedroom and a toothbrush in the bathroom. They hadn’t explicitly discussed moving in together—it seemed too soon, too significant a step—but time had a way of passing well here.

“If Chuck wants to.” A tricky prospect to navigate with a nine-year-old pushing boundaries in real time. “He might have things to do at Aunt Lydia’s.”

“I’m all yours,” Chuck assured them both. “And I promise pancakes in the morning. With chocolate chips.”

“Yes!” Winnie pumped her fist in victory. “Can I have blueberries in mine too?”

“Chocolate chips and blueberries? That’s pushing it, kid. I don’t know about berries. Maybe spiders.”

“Please? It’s a special occasion. The grand reopening and my tree. Please?”

“She’s got you there,” Niall pointed out. “It is a special occasion.”

Chuck pretended to consider the idea. “All right. Chocolate chips and spiders, I guess. But just this once.”

“You say that every time.” Winnie seemed unconvinced.

“And I mean it every time,” Chuck agreed. “Until the next special occasion.”

“And blueberries. Besides, you never put spiders.” Winnie sounded almost disappointed.