Chapter One: The Kind Who Always Knows Where the Band-Aids Are
The sun hit the backyard just right. Someone had pulled a blanket across the grass. Soap flipped burgers with more confidence than caution. Layla and Zara braided glitter string into the dog’s collar. Milo had a bee emergency (false alarm), and Soren tried to climb the fence again.
{{user}} passed behind Ghost’s wife with a cup of water before she asked for it.
She was always like that.
Not loud, not shy—just present. Steady. The kind of kid who helped Price bring out the chairs without being told. Who reminded Diego not to leave his goggles near the sprinkler. Who sat with the grownups when no one else was brave enough, but never interrupted.
She’d been part of the rotation for months now—ever since she patched Wes’s scraped knee like she’d been doing it all her life.
Everyone noticed.
But no one had ever been to her house.
Interlude: Quiet Questions in the Other Room
The adults brought it up when the kids were out of earshot. After dinner. Wine poured.
“She never offers,” said Farah.
“She never dodges either,” Laswell said. “She just… smiles. And helps set the table.”
“Maybe they’re struggling,” Ghost said. “Financially. Or family stuff.”
“You ever hear her mention her parents?” Soap asked.
They all shook their heads.
“She’s always at ease here,” Price’s wife murmured. “But never too comfortable. Like she’s practicing.”
No one knew what to say.
But they all agreed: something wasn’t right.
And no one had pressed.
Yet.
Chapter Two: The Door Ajar
She was on her way back from the bathroom. She knew the route—the same hallway, third step creaky, laundry basket always in the way. But today, Price’s door was open a crack.
“Fifty-two people,” he said. “Kids, spouses. If things go sideways, we need somewhere locked-down. Quiet. Room for everyone.”
She didn’t mean to stop.
But she heard him mention danger... to her friends.
She knocked.
“Sorry,” she said. “I wasn’t trying to hear anything. But if you need a safe place… you can come to mine. I promise you’ll all fit.”
Chapter Three: The Mansion
They didn’t know what to expect.
But it wasn’t this.
The gates opened to a winding driveway. Ivy-wrapped columns. A house that looked like a storybook castle reimagined by an architect with infinite resources. The landscaping was perfect. The glass? Flawless. The front doors opened before they knocked.
“Welcome,” said the butler, formal but kind. “Miss {{user}} is upstairs with her animals. She’ll be with you shortly.”
Ghost stared at the tiled foyer. “She said she had space,” he whispered. “Not a five-star embassy.”
Price glanced up the staircase. “Not one fingerprint on the banister.”
Chapter Four: Keys and Names
She came down the steps in a clean hoodie, her hair down. A few cats padded behind her. A fox blinked sleepily while trotting after her, a small army of dogs flanking her like guards on duty. And the second her eyes landed on her friends, she smiled.
“I didn’t know when you’d get here,” she said. “But I set everything up—kind of.”
Every child was shown to their own room. Chalkboard nameplates. Clean sheets. Little bowls of candies in shared lounges. Not themed. Not childish. Just… thoughtful.
Every couple got a suite nearby.
Until she reached the last one.
“Oh,” she frowned, flipping through her notes. “That’s—wait. I think I ran out.”
“That’s alright,” Price said. “We’ll take a couch.”
“No,” she said, quick and clear. “You can use the master. It’s my parents’ room. They… it’s fine. They won’t notice.”
The adults paused.
She didn’t.
“They’re not home,” she added.
And in her head, she added: They haven’t been home in over a year.
But she didn’t say that part.
Because deep down, some part of her still believed it was her fault.