Page 30 of Even Beneath the Stars

"Cos it's so sparkly!"

"Exactly." I adjust a crooked cardboard chimney, pink glitter spilling down the milk carton roof onto the garbage bag Maggie must have put down to capture any mess.

"That's how come I used two whole packs—cos' I love loveloveglitter!"

Maggie leans over, brushing some out of his curls. "I think we're going to need a whole cleanup crew now," she laughs.

I ignore her, averting my gaze to the nearby coffee table, where a few bags of glitter sit beside some toilet paper rolls and a pair of scissors.

I grab the scissors and start cutting the ends off the remaining glitter bags, then crouch beside Finn and place them in front of him, keeping one for myself.

"You know what would be awesome?" I tilt the bag, my gaze finally meeting Maggie's, "A glitter parade."

I swipe my arm in a wide arc that spans well beyond the garbage bag perimeter, so glitter swirls over their cardboard city—but mostly spills all across the rug my mother had imported especially from Turkey.

Finn jumps to his feet, poised with a bag fisted in each hand, eyes lighting up like fireworks. "A glitter parade!" He squeals, bouncing on his toes. "Can I do it, too?"

"Sure can, buddy," I say just as Maggie jumps to her feet.

"Finn,no!"

But it's too late. My little brother swings his arms wildly, silver and gold raining down in a shimmering downpour over his city… the carpet, his clothes, his hair. His squeals echo off the high ceiling as he spins, arms spread, lost in the chaos. "It’s magic!"

Maggie’s expression shifts from horror to fury. Her jaw clenches, eyes narrowed at me, but she doesn’t say a word. She knows if she does, it's admitting I won.

I wink. "Bet the citizens are gonnalovetheir sparkly new city."

More glitter cascades over my mother's prized rug.

Maggie lunges forward. "Finn, you can’t—"

But he’s already dumping the last of it. Then he flops onto his back in the middle of the mess, spreading his arms and legs like he's making a snow angel. "I’M THE KING OF GLITTER CITY!" he declares, his giggles echoing off the high ceiling.

The room looks like a disco ball exploded. Every surface within a ten-foot radius shimmers like victory. I push to my feet, biting back a grin, and head down the hall, towards the stairs.

"This is aaaaawwwesome!"Finn crows behind me. "I wanna do that again!"

Bet he’s already planning round two.

Bet Maggie’s silently cursing me. That she hates my guts.

Bring on the glitter storm.

Chapter Twelve

Maggie

Evenings at the Rockwell Estate are… weird. So quiet and empty. Sad, honestly. This massive sprawling house with towering arched ceilings and three-story windows and twenty-foot murals, and dozens upon dozens of rooms… and just Finn and Xavier to fill them. Well, and Barron, I guess, assuming he's home now, somewhere in the East Wing. And presumably Jacee, when she's here.Ifshe's ever here. No one really ever mentions her in front of the boys. Last time anyone did was Denise that time at breakfast. And after seeing Xavier's reaction, I kind of get why her name is off limits around the boys.

Anyway, despite the hundred-and-one different rooms in the place, Xave and Finn pretty much hang out in five of them, as far as I can tell.

I tilt the miniature vending machine under the desk lamp, examining my handiwork. The rust effects turned out pretty sweet—super realistic. A tiny "Out of Order" sign hangs crooked in the display window, and I've added scattered debris and dead leaves around the base. This dystopian world is going to be amazing.

Through the archway, I can keep an eye on Finn, who's sprawled on his stomach, Lego pieces scattered around him like confetti on the fancy rug. His dark curls are still damp from his bath, pajamas covered in cartoon dinosaurs.

My muscles ache from our after-school sledding adventure, climbing up the hill a zillion times, but it was worth it seeing how his eyes lit up the faster we got our inner tube to spin every run. A week in and I'm learning that everything with Finn is go big or go home. Including the meltdowns. He tests every boundary I set, but I'm determined to stay strong. It's going to take time, but it'll be worth it—if only for how much easier it will be for him to make friends once he learnsto be okay compromising occasionally and not losing it as soon as he doesn't get his own way.

Wednesday, when I told him no more cookies before dinner, he only freaked out on me for five minutes instead of his usual fifteen for something like that. Baby steps.

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