All Chapters of Thread of Glass: Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

The smell reached the kitchen before Joseph did, cardamom and something slow-cooked. A second later he appeared in the doorway with a bag from Melissa, unhurried as always, taking the room in before stepping inside. Riyana was off the stool before Zoya could reach for her. "GRANPA," she shrieked, hitting him around the knees with everything she had. He caught her the way he always did, with one arm, like catching her was second nature. Her small hands found his face immediately, holding him as she examined him with total authority. "You came," she said, like she needed her own hands to confirm it. "I came." He let her hold his face however she liked. "I made cookies for you." "I can smell them." He made a show of breathing in, and she watched with the serious focus of a chef awaiting a verdict. "Dey are not ready," she informed him. "Then I will wait," he said, unbothered by the terms. She accepted this with a firm nod before noticing the bag and pointing a flour-dusted finger

Zoya kept her voice bright and even. She crossed the kitchen and lifted Riyana mid-bite. Riyana grabbed a last piece of pasta on her way up, wrapping one arm around Zoya's neck. "We're going upstairs, baby." "Why, Mommy?" Riyana asked, looking back toward the kitchen. "It's sleep time." "Mommy, no. Grandpa is here." She pulled at Zoya's collar. "It's time for bed." Riyana looked at her plate, then at Zoya. She ate the last piece of linguine, dropped her head onto Zoya's shoulder, and sucked her thumb. "Okay," she murmured. Zoya carried her out. Her back throbbed with that old ache as the heavy wood door shut behind them. Joseph sat alone at the island. He ignored the cat on his lap and stared at the flashing screen. He knew the name on the caller ID: the man who had let wolves into his own home. He looked toward the door Zoya had just closed, where she had gone to hide her trembling hands once again. He answered before the final ring. "Omar." Silence stretched over the line

That night, Raiyan got home later than he meant to. After court, the lawyers had gone straight back into meetings, the briefs had run long, and Harrison had called twice more before Raiyan finally left the office. By the time his car pulled through the gates, the house had already gone quiet. The living room light was still on, casting a warm, solitary glow across the floorboards. Two members of the household staff were clearing the last of the dinner things quietly near the dining room, and Eleanor sat at one end of the sofa with a book open in her lap, though she didn't appear to be reading it. Liyana was asleep beside her, completely gone, one arm thrown out, dark hair everywhere, her cheek pressed flat into the cushion. She was still in her clothes from earlier. Her shoes were off, but only one sock remained on her foot. The other had gone somewhere into the house. It always went somewhere. Eleanor looked up when Raiyan walked in. "How was court?" she asked quietly, careful not

That night, the invitation was still in Zoya's bag. She took it out after Riyana had gone to sleep and sat on the edge of her bed holding the cream card. It had small flowers around the border and gold lettering. *Mei Leen and Evan Carter request the pleasure of your company.* She read it twice. Her name was written by hand. Not "Ms. Zoya Al Fayez." Just Zoya, the way Mei always wrote it. Mei and Evan. She sat with that for a moment, then laughed, a sharp, short laugh. The quiet house gave her too much room to think, and her mind drifted back to a restaurant in Covent Garden. Mei had picked the place because it had good cocktails and a private room where they could be loud. "Show me some respect, guys! I did not even see my grandpa off!" Zoya grinned as she said it, and Eric looked at her a second longer than the joke needed. "There she is," he said quietly. "You were standing like you were about to deliver a TED talk," Kenji said. "How did you know?" "Show-off," Mei said,

Faiyaz showed up twelve minutes later with a bunch of pink lilies tucked under one arm, and Riyana spotted him through the glass before Zoya even turned her head. "Faiyaz!" She was off the chair and running before anyone could stop her, ice cream cone still clutched in one fist, Brownie left behind on the seat where she'd tucked him in for safekeeping. He barely got the door open before she launched herself at him, and he caught her out of pure reflex, spinning her once, taking the full hit of strawberry ice cream against the side of his head in the process. "Baby—" Faiyaz reached up, touched his hair, then looked at his fingers like they'd betrayed him. "Faiyazzzzzz! Taste it!" She grabbed his face with both sticky hands. "I don't want to taste my own hair," he complained. "I know what flavor it is. I can feel it." He wiped at his temple with the back of his wrist, resigned — then took a bite from her cone anyway. "I know what flavor it is. I can feel it." He wiped at his temple