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sures.” “I love you guys,” she whispered as she settled against Edaline, hugging Ella tight. “We love you too,” Grady whispered back. It still took quite a while. But eventually sleep found her. And even though her dreams weren’t pleasant, the steady warmth of her family chased away the worst of the nightmares.
“Yeah, I know,” he said, scratching at his hair—which was much less carefully styled than usual. “I look like I lost a fight with my pillow.” He did. His dark circles were fierce. “Meanwhile, you look especially sparkly,” he added with a slow smile.
Keefe’s lips tilted into his famous smirk as he crossed the room to stand closer. “I meant that as a compliment, Foster. Sparkles look good on you. So does the new hairdo.”
He reached up, his fingers skating gently along the edge of the intricate braid weaving through the front part of her hair. She’d been awake so long, she’d decided to listen to Vertina—the tiny face programmed into her spectral mirror, who loved to offer beauty advice, regardless of whether Sophie wanted to hear it. “If you’re trying to impress me, it’s working,” he told her, and she felt her cheeks warm—until he added, “But, you always impress me, so maybe you were thinking of someone else?”
“You shouldn’t have,” Sophie agreed. “I bet you’ll sleep better tonight.” “Probably.” He smiled, shaking his head. “I never thought I’d need a stuffed animal to sleep. But . . . I never knew I needed a lot of things before I met you.”
You want me to dance, I’ll treat you to my most epic shimmy. Here, I’ll give you a free taste.” He wiggled his hips around the bathroom, and Sophie felt her traitorous lips smile.
“Or maybe you’d rather I put my incredible Empath talents to work and help you solve the complicated square you’re always telling yourself is a triangle?”
I should be going with you to Ravagog.” “Wait for it,” Keefe jumped in, right before Fitz added, “We’re Cognates.” “Aaaaaaaand, there it is!” Keefe said. “He’s adorably consistent, isn’t he? Don’t forget to show her the rings, too.” Fitz rolled his eyes. “She doesn’t need me to.” But he did tilt his hands so the verdigris bands on his thumbs were much more prominently displayed.
“Plus, y’know, Foster can’t live without me,” Keefe added. “Don’t make me smack you,” Sophie warned. Keefe smirked. “I’d like to see you try.” “So would I,” Tam informed them.
“I dunno,” Keefe said. “You don’t have a photographic memory, like Foster and I do.” Fitz shook his head. “Dude, you’re losing major Best Friend points today.” “Aw, I’m sorry, Fitzy. Should we hug it out?” Keefe wrapped his arms around Fitz and Fitz shoved him away—but at least they were both laughing.
“Oh good—more stairs,” she grumbled. Keefe snorted. “Stay snarky, Foster. It’ll help.”
And yet, Mr. Forkle offered a nervous smile as he took the last steps into the room and filled the air with the dirty-feet stench of ruckleberries. His piercing blue eyes locked with hers, flickering with a dozen unreadable emotions as he mumbled, “You kids are going to have a very hard time understanding this.”
And then there was Keefe, who simultaneously endured the entire range of emotions—fists curled with fury, eyes watery, skin pale from shock, hands shaking with a nervous, almost hopeful energy. But when it was his turn to speak, he chose to move to where Sophie sat curled up in one of the armchairs and crouched down to her eye level to ask how she was doing.
“Here,” Keefe said, wrapping his cape around her and fastening it under her chin. “Can’t have you turning blue on us.” He shook his head when she tried to protest. “You didn’t refuse the Fitzster’s gift, did you?” She wanted to point out that Fitz’s gift didn’t require him to be stuck freezing for who knew how long. But she had a better solution. She unfastened the pin and scooted
closer, wrapping one arm—and part of the cape—around him so they could share. Tam snorted. “Guess we have to score one for Keephie.” Grady’s sigh had a whole lot of groan mixed in. “Wait.” Kesler glanced at Dex, who was shaking his head at his dad—hard. “Does that mean—” Juline elbowed him before he could finish the question.
Keefe told him. “Sencen comes from my dad. Can’t wait to ditch that one someday.”
But before he leaped away he asked, “Still best friends, right?” A soft smile curled her lips, and her heart pulled back into place. “Forever.”
“I don’t know if I’m going to make it, Foster. And in case I don’t, there’s something I need you to know.” He motioned for her to lean closer—so close she could feel his breath on her cheek, and a fresh wave of goose bumps streaked across her skin. “You need to know,” he whispered, “that—”
“Wait—what were you going to say?” Sophie asked when Keefe closed his eyes and curled up tighter. His lips were half grimace, half smirk
as he said, “I’ll tell you later. Right now I’m focusing too hard on not throwing up on you.”
