Page 20 of Sadistic

"Charm carried you and your sister," she continues. "Starla survived her stepfather. Gwen lived through things she doesn't talk about. We all have our stories, our connections, our complicated histories. But we survive because we're tangled together."

"Auntie Rev, look!" Eira runs over, covered in dirt. "I found a worm! Wanna hold it?"

"Maybe later, baby."

"Mama says worms help the plants grow," she continues, undeterred. "Like how babies help families grow. Are you growing a baby?"

"Not yet."

"Oh. Well, when you do, can I name it? I'm good at names. I named Boden's imaginary friend Sparkle Doom."

I laugh at the ridiculousness of the name. "Sparkle Doom?"

"It's a good name," she insists. "For a dragon or a baby."

"The best," I agree.

"Eira, why don't you show Aunt Dalla your fairy garden?" Everly suggests. "I need to talk to Aunt Rev."

Once they're gone, Everly turns serious. "I need you to understand something. What you're walking into—it's not just marriage. It's a whole world with its own rules."

"I know?—"

"Do you? Because knowing and living it are different things." She strips off her gardening gloves. "Regnor saved my life. Literally. But there were days I wanted to run so bad I could taste it. Days when the weight of the life—the violence, the loyalty tests, the constant vigilance—it nearly broke me."

"But you stayed."

"Because leaving would have broken me worse. Because somewhere between the fear and the fighting, I found something worth staying for." She touches her belly. "Found someone worth fighting beside."

"What if Doran's not that person? What if he's just another controlling asshole with better manners?"

"Then you survive him too. And we'll help." She stands, pulls me up with her. "But Rev? Give him a chance to surprise you. These men, they're not what they seem on the surface."

Inside, we find Dalla painting her nails at the kitchen table while Eira instructs her on proper princess colors.

"Pink for the thumb," Eira says seriously. "Purple for the pointer because that's the bossy finger."

"What about this one?" Dalla holds up her middle finger.

"That's the naughty finger. Mama says we don't use that one."

"Smart mama," I say, sitting beside them.

"Your turn!" Eira grabs my hand. "You need special nails for getting married."

So I sit there, letting a five-year-old paint my nails in glittery pink while my sister does my toes in what Eira calls "mermaid blue." It's ridiculous and perfect and exactly what I need.

"Girls," Everly says from the doorway. "Your mom's calling."

The video call connects, and Mom's face fills the screen.

She's been crying—I can tell from the puffiness around her eyes.

"My babies," she says. "Are you okay?"

"We're fine, Mom," Dalla says.

"Don't lie to me. I know about tonight. Everything is so much right now. I can’t believe we lost more people." Her voice cracks. "Two kids, barely older than you. And now—" She stops, collects herself. "The wedding's in two weeks."