Page 107 of Close Knit

Alec remains unfazed. “We’re not nosy, Finn.”

“No,” Dante chimes in, his smirk growing. “What he meant is we’renoisy.”

Brooklyn flashes me a wink. “We’re inquisitive, maybe a bit too much. But we could definitely use another sister around here.”

Sister.

I let myself believe that this won’t be my last night in this house.

“Am I not enough?” Frankie quips, her eyes twinkling mischievously. Brooklyn whirls around, and in the process, her wineglass topples off the table. “For someone with two gold medals, you’re surprisingly clumsy.”

“Why don’t we strap you into a pair of skates then?” Brooklyn snaps, rolling her eyes in that exaggerated way she does.

“I’ll stick to my wheels.”

“I promise, Frankie: you, Hazel, and Dante are all the feminine energy I need.” She turns to me, mouthing,Just kidding, and I can tell she’s just trying to rile up her youngestsister. Moments like this make me wish my sister were here to witness the chaos.

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Dante says with a nonchalant shrug, a smirk tugging at his lips.

“You guys are such children.” Cameron rolls his eyes.

“Whatever,” Frankie says, tossing a truffle at Brooklyn’s forehead with terrifying precision—one, two, three times.

Brooklyn sucks her teeth before shouting, “You’re dead!” She shoves her chair back and lunges across the table.

Frankie cackles, leaping up and sprinting away, toward the karting track in the distance. “Race you!”

“I’m so sorry, Daphne; my kids are absolute animals,” Selene says with a laugh, her eyes twinkling with amusement.

“Trust me, my sister and I are no different. Although, she might not have the same deadly aim,” I reply.

Leo shoots me a warm smile. “Well, you’ll just have to invite her next year. Your parents, too.”

“Thank you, my moms would absolutely love that,” I say, feeling a flutter of excitement.

Cameron stands up, extending his hand to me. “I’ve got a pitch to show you.”

“Have fun,” Selene calls, winking at me. “But hurry back; I’ve got a whole album of baby photos.”

“Oh, I’d love to see baby Cameron with his little football.”

Dante smirks. “That’s all you’ll see. There aren’t many photos of him without one.”

“Shut up,” Cameron groans, grabbing my hand.

“Bet there are prom photos!” I tease and give him a nudge with my shoulder.

“Cameron never went to prom,” Alec says with a casual shrug, as if it’s the most ordinary thing in the world.

“Because there was a game the next day.” Cameron leans over to explain.

“That’s our Cameron,” Leo chimes in. “Always preferred the grassy pitch to childhood chaos.”

Selene grins. “And when friends came over, he’d plant himself in the goalie box—the loneliest spot on the field. A tiny fortress, guarding the net like it was Narnia.” I can almost see it—a pint-sized Cameron, every blocked shot a quiet victory. An introverted kid, just like me. Even now, there’s a part of him still connected to that solitary boy, and it tugs at my heartstrings. “We’ll tell you all about it when you’re back.”

“Mom, please don’t.” Cameron sighs.

“Please do.” I giggle.

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