Page 267 of Burn Bright

“You believe she’s invulnerable? Honestly?” I asked him seriously.

“Only one way to find out,” Charlie said.

I glared. “Donotfuck with her, Charlie.”

“What’s better?” he retorted. “We all play into her act and pretend she’s an unfeeling automaton and indestructible?”

“Would you seriously rather unearthtraumathat she might be burying?”

He considered it.

“Unfucking believable,” I muttered, then shot a look at Beckett.

He told Charlie, “I doubt she’ll do something as reckless. It has to be in the back of her head what could’ve happened.”

“And if it’s not?” Charlie questioned him. “We wereluckythis time.”

“Killing her confidence isn’t the way to go, brother,” Eliot said. “I’m with Ben. We reinforce she’s fine.”

“Ditto,” Tom nodded.

Beckett agreed, and it took all two hours to finally get Charlie topromisenot to launch a grenade on our sister tonight.Promises from Charlie are decently well-kept—but only with family. Outside of blood, he will break any made in a heartbeat.

Now that we’re all in the library, Charlie follows our sister’s direction and sits in the center of the Chesterfield sofa. “And you want me in the middle because…?” he asks her.

“So you can’t easily ditch the photo before it’s been taken.” She raises her chin. “I’ve outsmarted you.”

“Hardly.”

“To be seen.” She waves the rest of us at the couch. “Take your places wherever you see fit. Thatcher, for you.” She passes her phone to our brother-in-law so he can snap the pic. Even if this is for her scrapbook, we’re all aware the chances she posts this on social media are high.

None of us really mind since it’s for her.

So we gather around the sofa. Audrey squishes in on the right side of Charlie but makes enough room for Jane to be next to her. Then Beckett fills the last sofa seat to the left of Charlie. Behind them, Eliot stands and stretches his arms across the back of the furniture like he’s fucking Dracula hovering over everyone.

It makes me laugh as I drop down to the floor. Leaning against the couch in front of my little sister, I rest my arm on my bent knee.

Tom sits on the ground and flicks open a lighter. “On three, take the pic, Thatcher Alessio,” he instructs. “On two, we all sayCobalts never die.”

I smile at Tom, but I laugh so hard when things go naturally awry within one, two,three.Eliot steals the cat ears off Jane’s head. Audrey shrieks, “Charlie!” because he puts a palm in front of Beckett’s face, hiding our brother from the camera—while also flipping off the lens with his other hand. Tom sticks out his tongue near the flame of a lighter, and I have to be mid-laugh in the photo, staring at my family I love with all my fucking heart.

“We must take another,” Audrey decrees.

“Mommy!” Maeve suddenly picks herself off the floor near Thatcher’s ankles, then waddles with her tiny arms outstretched to Jane. “Mommy!”

She’s walking for the first time.

“Oui, Maeve. Look at you go!” Jane beams.

We all cheer her on, and Thatcher films the milestone on Audrey’s phone. When Maeve reaches Jane victoriously, we jump up and applaud like our niece just won first place in a spelling bee. Even Charlie claps. The baby giggles so vibrantly.

Then Charlie makes a quick exit.

“Wait!” Audrey calls out, distraught. She retrieves her phone to check the photo. “No, Ben.” She rushes over to me. “Look. I’mblinking. My eyes aren’t even open.”

In the several pictures Thatcher captured, Audrey has her eyes shut in every single one. “It’s just candid,” I say. “I’m not even staring at the camera.”

“You’re laughing, though. You look…” She smiles more fondly, her eyes going glassy before they lighten. “You lookreallyhappy.”