Page 43 of Scattered Glitter

I guess if anyone’s going to get me out of bed, it’s going to be this damn cat.

Following her down the stairs, I pause halfway down as the warm, comforting smells of coffee and bacon hit me from the kitchen.

Jinx meows, reminding me of the priority—her food.

“I got it, I got it,” I mumble, heading toward the enormous kitchen. “You know, you could have asked the one that’s already up and let me sleep.”

She just gives me another look.

All right.

Of course, Koen is there, singing softly as he moves around with little effort. I hesitate in the doorway, unsure if I should say something.

“Morning, Ric,” Koen greets, not turning around, as if he’s sensed me standing here. “Coffee’s almost ready.”

It’s a simple statement, but it feels loaded. An invitation.

Acknowledgment.

“Thanks,” I mumble as I walk over to the pantry.

I grab Jinx’s food from the cupboard and pour it into her bowl. She’s at it immediately, purring as she eats. As I lean against the counter and watch her, the world feels… manageable.

For a moment.

The smell of bacon wafts over, hitting me harder than before, and my stomach growls again, louder this time.

Koen glances over his shoulder, catching the sound. “You staying for breakfast? I’m making enough for everyone, and Levi and I want to talk to you about something.”

“Sure.”

They probably want to talk about when I’m leaving. Figuring out when I’ll stop being a burden. I’m not paying rent or chipping in for food. Hell, I’m not doinganything.

Not thatthe Lane brothersneed money. But charity isn’t their style, not the way it was Oscar’s. He was the one who saw our broken pieces and decided they were worth saving.

At least Sylus and Ezra do their part.

I’m an anxious, traumatized mess, unable to do anything butsurvive.

“You all right?” he asks quietly but direct as he finally turns to fully face me. His brown eyes are full of a concern I don’t want to acknowledge.

“Yeah,” I lie and look away, pushing a hand through my hair and feeling its weight settle between us.

I deliberately focus on the swirling patterns on the granite countertop. I don’t need to look at him to know he sees through me. He always does. Koen has that way about him—this quiet perceptiveness that’s as comforting as it is unsettling.

He would be a shitty mentalist if he couldn’t do that.

“He wouldn’t want us to fall apart,” Koen whispers. It’s the first time either of us has mentioned Oscar out loud in weeks. “We’re his family.”

“Levi and you are his family. He was your uncle. I was just—”

“Don’t you dare talk down the love he had for you,” he cuts me off. “Or I’m going to make you writeOscar loved me like a sonthree thousand times.”

The barest hint of a smile flickers to life, and I finally look up, meeting his gaze. His eyes are narrowed at me in challenge, and I know he absolutely would use his unfair tricks against me to make me do it.

I’ve never questioned Oscar’s love.

“This is all my fault,” I whisper, finally voicing what has tortured me since the moment I saw him lying on the floor backstage. “If I hadn’t… if Oscar hadn’t brought me here, if I hadn’t had the idea…”

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