Page 163 of Beyond Protection
He stared at the key. Then at Ma. Back to the key.
His hand closed around it. Tight.
"Family has keys," Ma said.
He trembled. I leaned closer. "You okay?"
"No." His eyes were damp. "But in a good way."
Claire moved. Set something on the coffee table.
A pot. Small. Asymmetrical. Crackled glaze. Warped rim.
It was the one I'd thrown in her studio.
"You saved it," I said.
"I fired it." Her voice was level. "It's unbalanced, but it still holds water."
She looked at us.
"You both survived the kiln."
Eamon picked it up. Turned it slowly.
"It's beautiful," he said.
"It's honest." Claire sat back.
From across the room, Miles raised his wine glass. "Welcome to the family. Fair warning: we're loud, we meddle, and therapy is both my profession and my hobby, so you're going to get a lot of unsolicited psychological insights. It's basically like having a very annoying superpower."
"Miles," Ma warned, but she was smiling.
"What? He should know what he's signing up for. Informed consent is important."
Eamon's mouth twitched. "Noted."
"Good. Also, you got shot protecting my cousin, so you're automatically everyone's favorite for now. Enjoy it while it lasts."
Ma ushered everyone except Eamon and me into the dining room. She produced food from nowhere—Ham, scalloped potatoes, green beans, and rolls.
Eamon stayed on the couch per Ma's orders. I brought him a loaded plate.
After dinner, someone found cards. A game of Spades disintegrated into accusations of cheating.
"You're counting cards," Marcus said.
"That's called having a memory," Michael shot back.
Eamon watched with an expression I couldn't read. Like seeing something he'd only heard about.
"You okay?"
"Yeah." He leaned back carefully. "This is what it looks like."
"What what looks like?"
"Family. The kind that stays."
