Page 143 of Down Knot Out
Quinn giggles. “Uncle Kyle says it wasn’t a crab, but I’m going to prove he’s wrong!”
“I’m sure you will.” Sadie touches her chest over her heart. “I’d love to read them sometime.”
The atmosphere in the room shifts, lightening by degrees. Quinn stops fidgeting and sits up straighter, though she still keeps her distance from her mother.
Sadie stares at her daughter, not with the weepy regret I half expected, but with distance in her gaze, as though she’s studying Quinn through glass, close enough to see, but unable to reach.
I’ve seen the same expression in the mirror, back when I thought I would never belong to a pack again.
When Quinn reaches for a cookie, Sadie tracks the movement, imprinting it as if it might be all she gets. Her fingers twitch in her lap, pinching at her pant leg.
Across the room, Blake catches my eye. Gratitude softens his features. I know I was uncertain about being here for this, but I’m glad I didn’t hide. Pack shows up for the hard parts. We make room, even when it hurts.
“Quinn,” I say, keeping it light, “why don’t you show your mom the drawing you made of your fishing trip with Kyle and Grady?”
Quinn hesitates, then slides off the couch and pads to the side table where her notebook lies. She flips through the pages before returning, stopping a careful arm’s length from her mother’s chair. “Here. I used the new crayons Uncle Dom got me.”
Sadie takes it with trembling hands, drinking in the pages, and her thin fingers trace the outline of the crab. “It’s beautiful, Quinn. You’ve always been so creative.”
“Quinn has a whole collection of stories about Detective Stardust,” I offer, breaking the tension. “She reads them to Sprinkles before bed sometimes.”
Quinn’s face brightens, her reserve forgotten in the presence of one of her favorite topics. “His favorite ones are where he’s the sidekick.”
Sadie leans forward, interest sparking in her eyes. “What time do you go to bed these days?”
“Eight thirty,” Quinn answers, growing more animated. “Nine o’clock if I’ve been good.”
“She never fights about bedtime,” Holden adds. “Not since we started the bedtime story routine.”
Sadie casts a brief look his way before turning back to Quinn. “What kind of stories do you like before bed?”
Quinn rocks on her heels, warming to the topic. “Uncle Nat reads me chapter books with magic in them. And Aunt Chloe tells me stories about dragons and knights.” She pauses and ducks her head a little. “I have a big bookshelf in my room now.”
“You do?” Sadie’s brows lift. “What’s your favorite book?”
“The one about the girl who finds a door to another world in her garden.” Quinn moves a step closer to her mother without seeming to realize it. “And the book about sea monsters that Uncle Dom got me.”
Dominic chuckles from his position by the doorway. “It’s more of a marine biology text than a storybook.”
“She’s obsessed with the sea cucumbers,” Blake shoots Quinn a crooked grin.
“She always did like strange things.” Sadie’s expression softens. “Remember the rubber octopus you used to carry everywhere, Quinn?”
Her eyes widen. “You remember Ferdinand?”
“Of course I do.” Sadie’s throat works as she swallows. “You used to carry him everywhere.”
The memory hangs between them, fragile as spun glass.
Quinn shuffles her feet. “Do you want to see my room? It has a treehouse inside it for reading.”
Sadie draws a shaky breath. “I’d love to.”
Blake stands, offering his hand to his sister. “We built it when she moved in, based on a drawing she made, so everything in there is how she wanted it.”
“They built Aunt Chloe a room, too.” Quinn leans closer to whisper, “It’s not as cool.”
“Shush, you.” Blake ruffles her hair. “Aunt Chloe had a drawing of her own that we went off of.”
