Page 23 of Even Beneath the Stars

My fingers find the strings, picking out a melody I've been working on. The words come easier up here, where no one can hear them, and the circular room works magic with sound. My voice bounces off the glass. The light shifts, drawing new patterns on the floor. I keep playing, and my voice gets bolder as the song builds.

Daylight turns to shadows. Then darkness.

And still, I keep playing

Chapter Nine

Maggie

Idrop another scoop of batter onto the parchment-lined baking sheet, watching as the chocolate chips glisten under the lights. The kitchen is quiet except for the gentle hum of the oven and Finn’s occasional sleepy mumbles as he carefully picks chocolate chips out of his cookie, popping them into his mouth one by one like he’s unearthing buried treasure.

When we came downstairs earlier, breakfast had already been set out for us—muffins and fresh fruit arranged under a glass dome, yogurt nestled in a bowl of ice like we were at some five-star hotel instead of an actual home. I still can’t get used to it, the way meals just… appear, the cooking staff always one step ahead, anticipating needs before anyone has to ask. It’s going to take some getting used to.

I'm not sure how late Finn would have slept in if I’d left him, but it was nearly ten-thirty when I finally woke him up. Hopefully, it means an easier bedtime tonight.

Because last night? Absolute hell.

Getting Finn into pajamas required full-scale negotiations. He claimed he wasn’t tired while simultaneously rubbing his eyes and yawning. Fifteen minutes later, he hit me with the mother of all tantrums—tears, screaming, stuffed dinosaur launched across the room like a prehistoric missile. And just when I thought he’d crashed? Jack-in-the-box mode activated. I thought I was going to lose my mind. He's used to going to bed whenever he wants, and it's going to be an uphill battle turning that ship around.

I slide the baking sheet into the oven and glance at Finn. "You doing okay there, buddy?"

Finn’s head droops dangerously close to his plate before he jerks upright, blinking like an owl. "M’awake."

"Sure you are." I nudge a plate of warm cookies toward him. "More milk?" I ask, eyeing the nearly empty glass beside him.

He nods, his curls still messy from sleep. "Yes, please."

I pour another splash. "Nice manners, Finny."

For all the spoiling he gets, the kid has surprisingly good manners—at least with pleases and thank-yous. I make a point to praise him for it as much as possible. Also, I’m a little curious about who taught him these manners. I guess it could be his revolving door of nannies, since it’s unlikely his absent parents had any part in it. Or maybe it was Xavier?

No. Manners require consideration for others. Which makes him about as qualified as a traffic cone. He probably thinks ‘thank you’ is what people say tohimjust for showing up—something he hasn’t done yet today. I'm pretty sure he went out right after Finn and I headed upstairs yesterday, and I didn't hear him come in, so he obviously spent the night somewhere else. In someone else's bed, most likely.

I set aside a separate plate of cookies. Maybe if I leave some for him, he’ll resent my presence a little less. Worth a shot.

My phone buzzes. It's Denise.

"Good morning, Maggie. Just checking in to see how everything's going," she says, her voice carrying that perfect blend of professional and warm that I'm starting to realize is her trademark.

"Everything’s fine." I glance at Finn, now attempting to extract another chocolate chip from his cookie with laser focus. "We slept in a bit, and we made cookies."

"Wonderful. And Xavier? Everything okay there?"

Crap. No way am I mentioning he’s been gone since yesterday. Although I'm not even sure that would be ratting him out; I still don't get how the whole thing works with Xavier—if he's accountable to anyone. But I do know he's got no accountability to me, so I'm not sticking my nose where it doesn't belong.

"Things are good." I keep my tone neutral. "I haven’t seen him this morning." (Not a lie but also not enough to be incriminating.) "But I made extra cookies in case he wants some."

"That was nice of you. I'm sure he'll like that." She pauses. "Do you need anything? The Rockwell world can be… overwhelming at first."

Understatement. But nothing I can’t handle.

"No, I think I’m good. Although I did accidentally end up in a walk-in fridge yesterday."

Denise’s laugh is gentle. "Ah yes, that’s caught quite a few people off-guard. Don’t worry, you’ll get used to the layout after a few days."

After we hang up, I turn back to Finn, whose lips and fingers are smeared in chocolate.

"What do you say we get bundled up and play in the snow?"

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