Page 78 of Broken By Silence
“I prefer being anartist,” I say, sliding a tray of cookies onto the counter. “Peace offering.”
Elijah eyes me suspiciously. “You baked?”
“Mm-hmm.” I hold up a spatula. “Apology cookies. For, you know… your fragile egos.”
Crew snatches one first, still grumbling. “At least she’s admitting it.” He takes a big bite… and freezes.
Roman takes one next, shrugs, bites in, and immediately frowns. Elijah follows, slow, skeptical.
There’s a beat of silence before Crew grimaces. “Why does it taste… weird?”
I can’t help it—I start laughing. I double over, clutching the counter. “Because,” I manage between giggles, “those are dog treats.”
Elijah stares at the cookie in his hand like it just betrayed him. “You fed us dog food?”
“It’s safe for humans!” I say, wiping tears from my eyes. “Peanut butter, oats, honey. Totally edible.”
Roman’s glare could burn through steel. “You fed us dog food?”
Claire leans against the counter, trying to catch her breath from laughing. “That’s my girl.”
Crew spits crumbs into the sink. “You’re lucky you’re cute, baby.”
I toss him a grin. “You’re lucky you sparkle, Glitter Boy.”
That earns another round of laughter from the rest of the room.
Elijah sighs, brushing glitter off his arms. “You realize this crap doesn’t come offeasily, right?”
“Oh, I know.” I lick cookie dough off my finger. “That’s the point.”
Crew leans against the counter beside me, still glittering under the morning sun. “You know, you’ve started a war, right?”
“Maybe.” I shrug. “But I already won.”
He laughs, low and grudging. “We’ll see about that.”
The kitchen fills with their mock complaints, the sound of laughter and disbelief tangled together. For once, the weight that’s always pressing down—the trauma, the tension, the ghosts—feels lighter.
And as I watch them sparkle like cursed Christmas ornaments, I think maybe this is what healing looks like.
Chapter 27
Oscar
Roman is standing at the counter, shirtless and still glittering faintly under the kitchen light. He looks like someone threw a rave in the shower. Crew’s got a towel around his neck, hair dripping wet, and Elijah’s trying too hard to act like he doesn’t care that his skin is literally shimmering.
I lean back against the island, sipping water, pretending not to be amused.
Lottie is in her element—barefoot, hair a tangled mess, cheeks pink from laughing too hard. She’s pulling tray after tray of cookies from the oven. The smell of peanut butter and sugar clings to the air.
Archer laughs, pointing toward Roman. “You’re sparkling, man. Like, full-on vampire.”
Roman’s head tilts back. “Don’t start.”
“Too late,” Claire chimes in. “Twilight’s making a comeback, apparently.”
Will’s lips curve up, his shoulders shake gently. “Edward Cullen, who?”
