Page 27 of Jasper

The next morning, I’m in the kitchen, cradling a mug of black coffee after another sleepless night, when I hear soft footsteps behind me. I already know it’s not Rowie since my sister, tiny as she is, walks around like she weighs as much as an elephant. And Ember isn’t here yet. Which leaves only one other person.

I turn, and there she is. Ariana.

Wearing the clothes she had on when I found her at the camper instead of the pajamas she wore overnight. The thin, ratty fabric is too baggy in some places and worn to threads in others, and it ignites something hot in my chest. Something protective. And pissed off.

She studies me for a second, head tilted like she’s trying to figure out if I’m approachable or not.

Then she bravely lifts her chin and clears her throat. “I’d like you to take my camper back. To where my car is.”

I stare at her. “No.”

She blinks. “No?”

I’m not sure why she seems fucking surprised. As if there’s any way in hell I’m going to allow her to stay in that thing. One strong wind and that fucking camper will roll right over onto its side. Not just that but I’m sure she would feel the wind on the inside since it doesn’t seem to have any damn insulation. No. Fuck no. It’s not happening, and if she wants to have a fit about it, she’s going to learn just how unapproachable I can be.

“There’s no way in hell I’m letting you live in that tin can ever again.”

She frowns, crossing her arms. “It’s not that bad.”

“Yes, it is.” I turn back to the counter and grab a plate. “You shouldn’t be sleeping in a freezer on wheels. You shouldn’t be wearing clothes that look like they’ve been through a damn shredder.”

“I don’t need charity,” she snaps. “My clothes are fine. They’re just getting broken in.”

“This isn’t charity,” I growl back. “It’s common sense.”

She opens her mouth to argue again, but I cut her off by setting a plate of food on the counter. Eggs, toast, bacon. I’ve already cut everything up for her. Bite-sized pieces. Easy. Thoughtful. I don’t know why I do it—I just do. And it fuels something inside of me. Gives me purpose. Quiets the demons a little.

She stares at the plate, then up at me. Her cheeks flush.

“Thank you,” she whispers, and then she digs in like she hasn’t eaten in days. Again.

I watch her for a beat, then step back and sip my coffee. If last night was any sort of lesson, this Little rainbow needs her space when she eats.

A few minutes later, Theo walks into the kitchen, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Rowie stumbles in not far behind him, still in her pajamas, her hair wild, and her stuffed bunny dragging behind her like always.

Rowie spots Ariana and lights up. “Ari!” she squeals, running across the kitchen.

Ari. Aw. That’s pretty damn cute.

Ariana looks startled when Rowie throws her arms around my Little thief’s waist and hugs tightly.

I half expect Ariana to freeze or pull away, but she doesn’t. Instead, she grins widely at Rowie and hugs back with just as much enthusiasm. As soon as they release each other, the two women start chatting like they’ve been best friends for life.

Rowie touches Ariana’s hair and compliments it again.

Ariana says how cute Rowie’s bunny is.

Then Rowie tells Ariana about the real bunny she’s been seeing hopping around outside near the garden.

And Ariana lights up and asks questions as if she’s truly interested in the topic.

They go back and forth, and all I can do is watch them in silence with a heavy weight in my chest. And what’s scary is that I know what it is. It’s the ache of knowing Ariana won’t be here forever. That she’s temporary. And the thought of losing her already makes it hard to breathe.

* * *

As soon as she finishes her breakfast, Ariana sets her fork down, wipes her mouth, and looks up at me with that stubborn fire already brewing behind her eyes. “I’m going out to the camper. I’ll wait there until you’re ready to take me to my car.”

I narrow my eyes. “We already talked about this, rainbow.”

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