Page 184 of Kentrell

Or the way Zoe gasped—sharp and audible—the second she processed what Darius had just confessed.

“Darius, I?—”

“What did you just say?”

Zoe’s voice barely made it above a whisper… but in that silent, thick-as-mud room, it hit like a scream.

Darius opened his mouth to respond…

But right on cue—like the house itself couldn’t handle any more of this messy-ass morning—the fire alarm blared.

The eggs.

Smoke poured from the stove, black clouds swallowing the kitchen air.

“Oh, shit!” Zora cursed, stomping into the kitchen, waving her hands like that could fix it.

I didn’t follow her.

My eyes were locked on Zoe.

Tears streamed down her cheeks, her stare fixed on the curling smoke like she was watching her whole life burn down… again.

And that… that triggered her.

Without thinking, I stepped in—closing the distance and pulling her into my chest.

Tucking her tight.

She broke.

Sobbing hard. Ugly. Like a kid who hadn’t cried in years and suddenly didn’t know how to stop.

Zora ditched the scorched pan in the sink and rushed back over, reaching like she could fix this too.

“Let me?—”

“Nah. I got it.”

The glare I gave her was cold. Familiar.

The kind of look I knew she’d seen before… on my daddy’s face back in the day. The same look that had fear jumping into her throat and backing her steps clear across the room.

Her retreat didn’t go unnoticed.

“Now… who the hell are you?”

Darius had caught the whole exchange. Watched it. Studied it.

He stepped in behind Zora, almost holding her up like she needed it.

But his eyes were on me now. Sharp. Questioning. Territorial.

“You don’t get to question him!”

Zoe’s voice—muffled against my hoodie—came out hot, broken, and protective as hell.

She sniffled, wiping her nose right into my chest like I was her personal tissue.

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