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“Nosy, much?” He shifted his computer away from her like she was going to cheat off some quiz. “I happen to have decided on history.”

Ashley picked up the philosophy textbook. “Did you take your time deciding on that?”

He snatched the book back. “There might have been a few majors before landing on history. I’ll just have a couple of minors to go with my degree. No biggie.”

“A few minors? That must take forever to finish.”

“If you don’t mind, I’d rather not discuss my school schedule with you.”

“Sure, whatever.” She lifted her hands placatingly, and he went back to reading his screen. “Why do you have so many bedrooms?”

August sighed and closed the laptop. “There used to be more people that lived here than just me.”

She felt it then. The quiet stillness of the house. It gave her an itchy feeling like she needed to turn on some music to keep the vacuuming silence at bay. “Where’s Uther?”

“Family dinner with his parents.”

“You didn’t get an invite?”

“Why would I?” He muttered something under his breath, and the philosophy textbook slid back onto the cart. “He knows what I am now.”

Ashley stiffened and shifted away from him. She’d almost forgotten. Her regular evenings here had desensitized her to the electricity in her throat at his proximity. Her check-in was done. She could report back to Hannah that her nephew remained incredibly boring. But something about this moment felt distressingly familiar. She just couldn’t quite put her finger on it. “You know you could always?—”

“Don’t say it.” He lifted a hand, his palm a wall between them. “I know what you’re going to say, and I’m not going to?—”

“Move already, damn it!”

They both looked up at the ceiling where the third voice had come from.

“Well, I didn’t say it.” She shrugged and skipped to the door.

“Yeah, yeah.” He opened the laptop, positioning it like a wall between them. “Go on and see what she’s up to. I know you’re not here for me.”

Ashley deliberated at the doorway. Lonely. That was the familiar feeling.

August muttered something and a drawer slid open.

The static in her throat grew to an unbearable frequency, as though he knew she was still there watching him.

Right. They weren’t friends, and they weren’t going to be. She left the room and headed to the set of stairs at the back of the hall.

Esther

Today, the chair decided not to move.

Esther ground her molars at the sound of wheels scraping against old wood as she wormed her way free, tumbling to the cold, hard floor. Another bound book cataloged, a few dozen more to go.

“Trouble?” Ashley leaned in the doorway with one of her perfect smiles pasted in place.

“Oh, so you know its name.” Esther gestured at the heavy chair planted merrily and firmly by the desk before getting up and dusting off her knees.

Ashley had never been up here before. If Esther kept moving, she wouldn’t have to think about how small the space was with Ashley in the doorway. Or how they hadn’t been in the same room since All Saints’ Day, over a week ago when Esther had basically begged Ashley to take her home. But Esther was a mature adult who was not thinking of the way Ashley had looked at Esther like she was a snack. Or the realization that if Ashley didn’t bite her, Esther would bite Ashley herself. That was new—and complicated.

Grabbing the old stool in one hand and the finished book in her other, Esther hastened past the doorway to the bound books’ shelf, eager to hide whatever expression was on her face. The stool groaned and shifted under her. They needed a new one, but she always forgot the moment she was downstairs. She’d be sureto bring it up with August on her way out today. The stool tilted again, and she latched onto the top shelf to keep her balance.

“Did you need help with that?” Ashley’s heels tapped closer, but Esther was determined to do this herself.

“I’m fine.” Esther tucked the book into place. “I’ve been shelving books for months now.”