Then Corwyn leans forward, excitement sparking in his eyes. “Okay. What if the ‘key’ we’re looking for isn’t an object, but an act?”

Tyler raises a brow. “Like what?”

“Think about the phrasing in the riddle: ‘To open what was sealed by pride, surrender first what shame would hide.’ That’s not physical. That’s emotional. Symbolic.”

“Surrendering pride…” I echo, frowning in thought. “Could be confession. Vulnerability. An apology?”

Rhys hums. “Or a revelation. Something the family never wanted exposed.”

Corwyn’s gaze lands on me, and his smile softens. “See? This is why we need you. You see the heart of things.”

My cheeks warm, and it’s not from the soup.

We keep talking long after the food is gone, bowls pushed aside in favor of leaning elbows and tangled theories. The fire crackles nearby, casting everything in golden light. At some point, Tyler disappears and comes back with mugs of tea laced with cinnamon and honey. It’s such a dad move, I grin into mine and say nothing.

There’s something deeply human about this moment. No heat. No lust. Just connection. Companionship. The echo of something I hadn’t realized I missed—shared meals, late-night laughter, belonging.

Eventually, Rhys rises and begins gathering the empty dishes. I move to help him, but he waves me off gently. “Stay. You’ve done enough thinking for one night.”

I watch as Corwyn and Tyler join him, the three of them moving around each other in easy, practiced patterns. I should feel like a guest again—but I don’t.

Because this? This feels like home.

And for the first time in years, I don’t feel like I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop.

I feel… full.

In every possible way.

Chapter fifty-four

Lila

The storm is gone.

Not entirely—the trees still sway with leftover gusts, and the sky remains bruised with pale clouds—but there’s a hush now. A peace I hadn’t noticed missing until it returned. The kind of silence that wraps around you gently, like a blanket warm from the dryer. Misty’s curled up on the window bench, her tail flicking idly as she watches the calm settle across the island.

I’m standing by the window in one of Tyler’s oversized hoodies, fingers wrapped around a cup of lemon tea. I can smell the fading storm on the wind and the rising scent of damp pine, fresh earth, and distant sea salt. If I close my eyes, I can pretend this moment is a forever kind of quiet.

But I know better.

Fairy tales don’t last past the last page, and I’ve always been more of a mystery girl, anyway.

The phone lines buzzed back to life earlier. A little blinking light on the kitchen router told me it was time. No more hiding in the storm. No more pretending the outside world didn’t exist.

It’s time to call my family.

My fingers tremble as I dial, and not because of the cold.

Jake picks up on the second ring. “Lila?!”

His voice is sharp, loud, edged with panic that slams straight into my chest.

“I’m okay,” I say immediately, fast, breathless. “I’m okay, I promise. I—”

“Where the hell have you been?”

“Jake—”