Page 82

SANJANA

I trudged down the basement stairs with three pizza boxes stacked in my arms, the buttery smell of garlic and melted cheese trailing behind me. Shakira followed closely, carrying two more boxes and a wobbly tower of paper plates and napkins, her fuzzy socks nearly slipping on the last step.

It was the norm for us to do a game or movie night when we came home, and then the Vosses would host a late lunch before we headed back tomorrow.

If the others were back this way, they’d come too.

Tonight was supposed to be my last bit of normal, but the last text I’d gotten had ruined the tiny bit of levity the call with everyone had brought me.

I pushed through the double doors of the cinema room, the kind of space that looked straight out of a design catalog—oversized loungers, a ceiling that glowed like a starry sky, and more Marilyn Monroe pillows than anyone needed.

I didn’t slow until I reached the back table near the fridge and candy rack, setting the boxes down with a huff, doing my best to keep my expression neutral.

If Shakira noticed anything off, she didn’t say.

She dumped her stack beside mine and squinted at the food. “Do you think this is enough pizza?”

“For us? Probably,” I said, straightening. “For Cade? Not a chance.”

She grinned, trying to keep it casual. “Is he seeing anyone?”

I snorted, pushing my hair back. “That’s generous. ‘Seeing’ implies consistency.”

I said this in good fun. Cade was single, safe, and not doing a damn thing wrong.

It’d be hypocritical of me to side-eye him for having fun when Roxxi used to do the exact same thing, and I loved it for her.

Used to being the keywords, because ever since the guys had caught on, they shut all of that down and became her personal chastity patrol.

The double standard was ridiculous, but Roxxi had a workaround.

It helped that she was a man-eater. She took what she wanted and swiftly moved on.

Roxxi and Cade were two sides of the same coin, really.

As much as we all joked around, their sex lives were no one’s business but their own.

Shakira rolled her eyes, a faint blush creeping up her cheeks. “Whatever. He’s still freaking gorgeous.”

“Yes, he is pretty, but you realize that’s like crushing on my brother?”

She shrugged. “You’re in love with mine, then.”

“Touche.” I laughed and busied myself by unstacking the plates and napkins.

Shakira dropped onto one of the oversized loungers, tucking her feet beneath her. “Oh, I heard the annual Hunt kicks off tomorrow.”

“By heard, you mean half of Hemlock is acting like it’s a national holiday?” I tried to keep my tone light.

She shrugged. “I mean, yeah. People are going crazy on social media. Even Mom’s been talking about it.”

It suddenly dawned on me she hadn’t mentioned anything about my locker room incident. In fact, no one had.

This was something the girls would’ve been all over to fact-check. More than likely, Crowsfell has already buried it since it was a violation of their expected conduct. It was disturbing how cutthroat the university could be when necessary.

“What did Mom say?” I asked.

“Oh, she was so worried you’d get Marked, she stayed up all night clutching her prayer beads like they’d stop anything bad from touching you. Dad kept telling her no one would dare put you in The Hunt.”

I wonder if this elite mindset was why we ended up in this game. Dennis had alluded to that, too. I swallowed, forcing a tight smile. “Well, it’ll be here soon.”

Shakira’s brow furrowed. “What’s campus like?”

I shrugged, stacking the last plate with what I hoped passed for casual ease. “More or less the same. I mean, there’s the usual hurrah about it, but no one’s gone screaming down the halls... yet.”

“Yet,” she echoed, lips twitching into a half-smile.

When I glanced over, my sister was still watching me.

“Are you okay?” she asked, quieter now. “Like… actually, okay?”

“For the most part,” I quipped with some pep.

“Sanji, you don’t have to tell me everything, but if something’s wrong, I’m here. However, you need me. Always.”

“I know. I just…” I needed to be careful of what I said . I would never dump all this on my baby sister. Shakira would worry herself sick about me or get involved somehow. My sister was not like me. She was confrontational to the extreme.

“College is a lot sometimes, that’s all. I can’t say half of it out loud without sounding completely unhinged.”

When she came over and wrapped her arms around me, something clicked

If I made it through this, really made it, then I’d know exactly what to do if Shakira ever found herself in my position. I’d be the one who could guide her through it.

“Hey, even if you go batshit from pressure, I’d still ride for you.”

I hugged her tighter. “You’re kind of the best.”

“I am,” she agreed with a teasing grin as she pulled back.

Voices drifted in from upstairs, familiar ones that had her breaking away from me and pretending to organize the napkins. I bit my cheek, so I didn’t laugh at her. I turned to head for the cinema door, but it swung open first.

Cadence burst in and launched herself at me like a missile, much like my sister had that morning. I caught her with a laugh, staggering back. “I missed you!”

She pulled away just enough to beam up at me. “I missed you at least five times more.”

I grinned. “That’s impossible, Cadence.”

“It’s true.”

Behind her, Ryder and Cade filled the doorway.

Cade’s smile stretched wide as his sister practically climbed me like a tree, and Ryder’s eyes met mine over her shoulder, quiet, unreadable, warm in a way that made my stomach flip.

Cadence let go and gave me a once-over. “Okay, but seriously, your body is even more amazing than the last time I saw you. Teach me your ways.”

I laughed. “This is the work of a tyrant named Roxxanne Sterling.”

Cadence recoiled in mock horror. “I take it back. I’ve heard the horror stories.”

Laughter rippled from the doorway.

Shakira moved over to hug both boys, cheeks going faintly pink when Cade smiled down at her.

Cadence caught it instantly. We shared a look, trying not to crack up.

Her little crush really was the cutest thing.

A moment later, the basement door opened again, and the rest of the Voss family filtered in—Billy and Tiffany leading the charge.

“There she is,” Billy Voss said, pulling me into a hug. “You get prettier every time I see you.”

I could’ve said the same about him, but Ryder and Cade would never let me live it down.

He was still built like the athlete he’d been in his college days.

His cocky grin had passed directly to his sons.

His dark hair was just starting to gray at the temples, the lines around his eyes deepening the kindness in his expression.

He hugged me tight, then stepped back so Tiffany could pull me into her signature soft, floral-scented embrace.

“I can’t wait to have you all here for break,” she murmured. “I miss our big get-togethers.”

“It’s not too far off,” I replied with a smile.

She was as beautiful as her husband. Tiffany Voss turned heads without trying. Golden skin, thick mahogany waves, ice-blue eyes framed by lashes most girls paid for. Some people said she was off her rocker. I never saw it.

She’d always been the sweetest to me. Fierce when it mattered. Billy got her sister pregnant, and she never once took it out on Cade. She protected him. Loved him. The boys were hers. No questions asked.

Then my parents came in, Sugarmama on my mom’s arm and Nonno trailing behind them, tossing cashews in his mouth like he owned the place. Which, honestly, he kind of did. The basement was his pet project back when finishing it meant outdoing every other grandfather on the block.

My dad hugged me again, his third or fourth that day.

He’d been missing me more than he let on.

Dressed down in joggers and a black tee, he still looked like he could walk into a courtroom and win.

Sugarmama bypassed greetings entirely, floating straight to the snack stash, her silk kaftan trailing behind her like royalty.

And just like that, the room was full.

Loud. Familiar. Alive.

For the next hour or so, I could pretend the world outside this house didn’t exist.