Page 153 of Mason

Because watching her work this space with so much ease, it doesn’t make sense.

If this isn’t her home, how does she seem like the only one in the world who could own it?

Maxine glances over her shoulder, cracking open the nacho bag. She shrugs. “Used to come over every weekend for Nacho Night.”

She says it casually, but her voice catches halfway through. Just enough to notice.

“You haven’t done it since I’ve been here,” I say carefully.

She pauses. Then nods.

“Yeah. We don’t really do it anymore.” A beat. Then: “My sisters and I… we went through a rough patch.”

It’s the first time all night I’ve seen her falter.

That electric, firecracker energy of hers dims for a second, like someone flipped a switch.

“I was… away for a while,” she adds, her voice lower now. “And Sophia—my sister—we lost her.”

The room shifts with the weight of that confession.

“I’m so sorry,” I say, standing from my stool and walking to her, hesitant but pulled forward by instinct. She doesn’t feel like a stranger. Not anymore.

But I don’t know how to hold her grief.

I can’t even hold my own.

Maxine wipes her eyes with the back of her sleeve and forces a shaky laugh. “Look at me. I came here to drag you out of the pit, and now I’m dragging you into mine.”

“You don’t have to be sorry about anything,” I say quietly.

I place a hand on her shoulder. A soft squeeze—reassurance, or maybe just a reminder that she’s not alone.

She looks at me then, eyes glassy, but full of something strong. Somethingsolid.

“I’m really sorry for what happened to you, Shelby,” she says gently. “But if it helps… it does get better. Not all at once. Not neatly. But eventually, you’ll wake up one day and the air won’t feel so heavy.”

I swallow hard.

Her words settle deep in my chest.

Because she says them like someone whoknows.

Maxine doesn’t need to tell me more.

She’s already told me enough.

Then the soft rhythm of heels on marble pulls both of us out of the moment.

Mia rounds the corner, holding a bottle of wine overhead like she just won a prize.

“I came as soon as I could,” she announces. “Where’s the party at?”

Maxine clears her throat and gives me a wink, already reclaiming her spark.

And for the first time since I woke up in that hospital bed—surrounded by the ghosts of everything I lost?—

I start to feel like maybe I haven’t losteverythingafter all.

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