2

They exchanged a quick look, and Ethan finally backed off, letting Olivia walk in first. His jaw was tight, like he was biting back a dozen snarky comments, but he kept quiet. Olivia, though, wasn’t about to let it go. She sauntered in, fanning her hand dramatically in front of her face.

“Finally, fresh air,” she said, her voice dripping with exaggeration. “I hope you know your smell almost choked me to death.”

Ethan’s mouth opened, then snapped shut as he took a deep breath, clearly trying not to take the bait. I turned away, heading toward the kitchen where I could hear my parents moving around, probably making breakfast. I had to get out of there before I burst out laughing and made the whole thing worse. Olivia and Ethan’s bickering was like a daily ritual, and as much as it made me roll my eyes, it was also kind of comforting. It was normal, unlike the dreams that chased me every night.

As I already expected, I found them in the kitchen, Mom making breakfast and Dad fastening his tie and kissing her a quick goodbye from behind as their usual morning routine before any of them leaves the house. “Good morning, hope I’m not interrupting?” I said, smiling at how these two love each other like in werewolf novels, where the mate bond makes them stupidly in love and inseparable. If I wasn’t one who doesn’t believe in fairy tales and myths, I would’ve thought they were werewolves pretending to be humans.

“Morning, sweetie,” Mom said, her cheeks turning pink as she smiled, a little flustered by Dad’s affection. She was at the stove, a spatula in one hand, her apron tied loosely around her waist. Dad, still in his button-up shirt despite it being the weekend, ruffled my hair as he passed by, something he’s done forever even though I’m turning eighteen in a few days. I rolled my eyes but couldn’t help smiling. It’s annoying, but it’s also kind of nice, like a reminder that some things never change.

“What’s for breakfast today?” I asked, heading to the sink to wash my hands, ready to help out like I usually do.

“Scrambled eggs and bread, sweetie, your favorite,” Mom said, her voice warm as she cracked another egg into a bowl. Dad grabbed his keys from the counter and gave us a quick wave. “Have a great day, you two,” he said, heading for the door. I didn’t ask where he was going. It’s the weekend, so it’s probably some errand or maybe golf with his buddies, but I’ve learned not to pry. He’s always got somewhere to be, even on Saturdays.

“It’s okay, dear, I can handle this,” Mom said, whisking the eggs in her favorite glass measuring cup. I love how she does that—mixing everything in that cup until it’s perfectly blended before pouring it into the pan. It always comes out fluffy and golden. “You go join your friends. It’s not ideal to leave them alone out there,” she added, her tone teasing but with a knowing edge. “Besides, they’ll eat each other raw if there’s no one to keep them at least five feet apart, considering how well they get along.”

I burst out laughing, clutching my sides as her sarcasm hit me like a wave. “I know, right?” I managed to say, still giggling as I pictured Olivia and Ethan bickering over nothing. Mom’s got a way of saying things that’s so dry it’s hilarious, and she’s totally right about those two. They’re like oil and water, always clashing but somehow stuck together.

I wiped my eyes, still chuckling, and headed back to the living room. As I got closer, I could hear Olivia and Ethan’s voices, whining in that dramatic way they do when they’re trying to get attention. “Where’s Bella? She just leaves us here to fend for ourselves,” Olivia said, her voice carrying that fake pout she’s so good at.

“Yeah, we’re practically wasting away,” Ethan added, and I could hear the grin in his voice. “Exhausted, abandoned, left to starve—it’s a tragedy.”

I rounded the corner and saw them both slouched on the couch, looking like they’d just run a marathon instead of arguing over the doorway five minutes ago. Olivia had her arms crossed, her red jacket slung over the armrest, and Ethan was leaning back, one leg bouncing like he couldn’t sit still. The fact that they were actually agreeing on something—complaining about me leaving them alone—was almost shocking.

“I’m right here, sorry, my favorite people,” I said, plopping down in the armchair across from them. Ethan’s face lit up, his grin stretching from ear to ear, and Olivia rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide her smile.

“Finally,” Olivia said, tossing her hands up. “I was about to send a search party. What were you doing, having a heart-to-heart with your mom or something?”

“Just checking on breakfast,” I said, leaning back and tucking my legs under me. “You know, making sure we all get fed so you two don’t start chewing on the furniture.”

Ethan laughed, running a hand through his messy hair. “Hey, I’m not that desperate yet. But I’m not saying no to food. What’s on the menu?”

“Scrambled eggs and bread,” I said, mimicking Mom’s cheery tone. “My favorite, apparently.”

“Nice,” Ethan said, nodding like he was approving a five-star meal. “Your mom’s eggs are the best. No offense to my mom, but hers always come out kinda rubbery.”

Olivia snorted, finally uncrossing her arms. “That’s because you probably distract her with your nonstop talking. Poor woman can’t focus.”

“Says the girl who never shuts up,” Ethan fired back, but there was no real heat in it. He was still grinning, and Olivia just shook her head, like she was above responding.

I leaned forward, resting my chin in my hands, trying to keep the mood light. The dream was still lingering in the back of my mind—the smoke, the glowing eyes, the way my legs burned as I ran. I didn’t want to think about it, not now, not with my friends here. They didn’t know how bad the dreams had gotten, how they were every night now, each one more vivid than the last. I’d mentioned them in passing before, but I never went into detail. How do you explain something that feels so real it’s like you’re living it, but makes no sense when you try to put it into words?