Page 146 of Hide From Me

The shift in the room is immediate.

My eyes flick between them—one confused, the other looking like he’s about to have a full-blown heart attack. Moe sits up straighter, brow furrowed. I can feel it—whatever this is—it’snotabout the coffee.

“You’re like a damn bloodhound,” Moe mutters, exasperated. “It’s honestly getting weird. You should get it checked out. Psychologically, I mean.”

Caspian doesn’t even blink. Just keeps staring at the cup like it holds all the answers and none of them are good.

“Goddamn it, little siren,” he grits, voice low. Then, louder, he points a finger at Moe like he’s issuing a military-grade threat. “If your niece or nephew comes out with tachycardia, ADHD, or a fucking addiction to caffeine, I’m blamingyou.”

The words land like a bomb.

Silence drops so heavy and fast that it actually rings in my ears. For a second, I’m not sure I heard him right, so I stare at him, stunned as Moe goes still beside me.

Holy shit.

Caspian saidniece or nephew.

We stare at him like he’s lost his mind—because maybe he has—but when I look at Moe again, something shifts. Somethingsoftens. And then… he smiles. Big. Bright. The kind of smile that only I can typically pull from him, the kind that cracks straight through his usual intensity like sun through a storm.

And I smile too.

Because what a chaotic, messy, completely ridiculous family we’re building.

Ours.

Caspian smiles back—sarcastic and just a little smugger than usual—and that’s all it takes. Moe is up and crossing the room in two strides, throwing his arms around Caspian in the most terrifyingly enthusiastic bear hug I’ve ever seen.

Caspian wheezes. “Okay—Jesus—get off me—”

“You two go talk,” I say quickly, standing and smoothing my dress one last time.

I shoot Moe a look. “I’ll clean up in here.”

Moe tears himself away from Caspian just long enough to cross back to me. He presses a kiss to my temple, warm and lingering. “Don’t clean up too much. My niece or nephew will need a friend.”

“Moe!” I gasp, smacking his arm, my cheeks burning again, but he’s already backing toward the door, his eyes still shining as if he can’t believe his own luck.

He follows Caspian out, their voices fading down the hall, and I stand there for a moment longer. The room feels too quiet now, my body still buzzing from everything that just happened.

There’s shock, yes, but beneath it lies a steady, fierce joy, because I know it’s true. One day it will happen, and whatever child we bring into this world will beperfect. Not because they’ll enter a fairy tale, but because they’ll have us.

This child will have two parents who clawed their way out of hell and found each other at the edge of it. Parents who made a home in a haunted house, patched up broken floorboards, and chose each other over and over again. They will inherit my rain and his fire, my quiet and his noise, my survival and his scars.

After all, only the light can love the dark, and we’ve already proven we are both.