Page 59 of The Sound of Forever
Julianna pulls back just enough to meet my gaze, her lips quirking into a half-smile. “You’d probably join her, don’t lie.”
I grin, shameless. “Depends—are there chocolates and marshmallows in there?”
Her laugh is soft, but then her expression shifts as reality creeps back in. She gently presses her palms to my chest and slowly, reluctantly, I let her slide off me. The loss of her is immediate.
She adjusts herself, her fingers brushing over her flushed skin, and my body tightens in response. But before I can pull her back, she’s already swinging her legs over the edge of the bed.
She looks at me, her smile soft but tired. “You don’t have to. I’ll clean up and check on her in a minute.”
“I want to,” I reply simply, standing and stretching. “You stay here. Take your time.”
Her eyes soften. “Thank you, Keane.”
I nod, grabbing my clothes from the chair before heading downstairs. Rayne’s giggles grow louder as I approach the kitchen.
When I step inside, she’s perched on a stool at the counter, a bowl of cereal that’s more marshmallows than anything else in front of her. A cartoon plays on the tablet propped up beside her, and milk has already started pooling on the counter.
“Morning, Ray,” I say, leaning against the doorway with a grin.
“Keane! You stayed for a sleepover,” she exclaims, her gap-toothed smile lighting up her face. “Look. I made breakfast all by myself. Do you want some?”
“I can see that,” I reply, grabbing a paper towel to start wiping up the mess. “Looks like you’ve got enough cereal there to feed an army.”
She giggles, swinging her feet back and forth. “I saved some for Julie, too.”
“Good call,” I say, ruffling her hair as I move to the coffee machine. “But maybe let’s not drown the next bowl in milk, huh?”
Rayne beams, taking another bite, and her laughter fills the kitchen. It’s a sound I hadn’t realized I’d miss until she fell sick, when it was replaced with weak whimpers and silence. As the coffee brews, I hear the soft padding of footsteps behind me. I turn to see Julianna walking into the kitchen, her damp hair falling over her shoulders, a towel still slung around her neck. She’s wearing an oversized sweater and leggings, the kind of effortless look that somehow makes her even more beautiful.
“For you,” I say, handing her a mug of coffee as she approaches.
She takes it, her fingers brushing mine, and for a moment, the contact lingers, electric in a way that sends my pulse skittering.
“You’re spoiling me,” she teases, though her voice is warm.
“Someone has to,” I reply, leaning against the counter. “Rayne’s pretty sure she’s running the place now. Thought you’d want to know.”
Julianna laughs softly, taking a sip of her coffee. “I wouldn’t expect anything less. That kid could lead a small nation if she put her mind to it.”
I chuckle, watching as she moves to the counter where Rayne is still engrossed in her cereal. She leans down, brushing a kiss against the top of Rayne’s head before turning to clean up the trail of marshmallows.
The scene feels almost surreal, like a snapshot of a life I never imagined for myself—one I never thought I’d want. But here, in this moment, it doesn’t just feel natural—it feels right. Not long ago, Rayne wouldn’t even say her aunt’s name, and now, here they are, together in a way that feels effortless, like they’ve always been this way. Like they belong to each other.
I stay where I am, watching them, something deep inside me shifting, settling into a truth I didn’t see coming. We’re not just three people brought together by chance, casualties, or circumstances—we’re a family. The thought is as comforting as it is terrifying.
Because I know what family means. And I know what it means to lose one.
And that’s what scares me most.
ChapterFifty-Five
Julianna
I sitat the kitchen table, a thick file spread out in front of me. The papers are a mess of legal jargon, bank statements, and photocopies of old documents. The faint aroma of coffee lingers in the air, though my mug sits untouched, its contents probably gone cold. The words on the pages blur together, and I blink hard, trying to focus, but it’s like swimming against a relentless current. Frustration knots tighter in my stomach with every passing minute.
Hank Nichols is my sworn enemy. His face flashes in my memory. Sun-weathered skin, calculating eyes that darted too quickly, and a mouth that formed threats with unnerving calm. He wasn’t aggressive when he showed up—no raised voice, no clenched fists. But his words landed like punches. He’d claimed to be Rayne’s uncle, and though he hadn’t said much, the promise of his return has been hunting me since he left.
Am I scared he’s going to take my kid away? Of course. The thought gnaws at me, relentless and unforgiving. She might not be my daughter, but Rayne is mine in every way that matters. Mine to care for, to guide, to love with everything I have. Mine to hold through her nightmares, to celebrate her triumphs, to protect from anything that might hurt her. Losing her isn’t something I can even begin to imagine.
