Chapter 37
THIRTY-SEVEN
“Sometimes it spins, sometimes it falls.” Oscar flicks a coin into the air, and we watch how he spins it before it lands in his palm again.
When he opens his hand, it isn’t the coin anymore but a tiny, red bell.
Levi grins as he plucks it from Oscar’s hand, twirls it between his fingers, then tucks it into his hair like a makeshift ornament. “Festive enough for you, Uncle O?”
Oscar’s laugh is genuine, easing some of the tension in the room. “Perfect.”
The backstage lights buzz faintly, and the hum of the crowd is a low roar on the other side of the curtain. But back here, it’s thankfully almost quiet.
No press of bodies, no stuffy air. Just us.
Sylus shifts restlessly on the balls of his feet, a bundle of nervous energy.
Levi and Koen stand shoulder to shoulder.
Levi lightly wiggles in his white glittering suit, while Koen is more subdued but intimidating in black, but the way he plays with the rose charm on his necklace shows how anxious he is as well.
Two sides of a coin, as their uncle likes to call them.
Ezra leans against a crate, arms crossed, his eyes locked on Oscar, who stands at the center, calm as ever.
The steady anchor in our storm. But tonight…
Something feels off.
His eyes sweep over us like they always do, but for a second, something slips in his gaze. Something tired.
Is it any wonder, though?
It’s hard to act like this is just another show.
Like it’s not the day we’ve worked toward for years. Like it’s not our last night in Vegas, and we’re not about to run from the police and Veronica’s wrath.
His eyes sweep over us, taking us all in, and the gravity of it hits me again.
This is the night we’ve bled, broken, and sacrificed for.
“All right, boys,” Oscar begins. “This is it. The big one. We’ve been through hell to get here. And you all stayed.”
Sylus catches my eye and flashes a crooked smile, but his hands are twitching at his sides. Ezra simply nods, quiet as always, but his shoulders aren’t as squared as they usually are.
“Blood doesn’t make a family.” Oscar’s voice softens, but somehow, it hits harder. “It’s loyalty. It’s showing up for each other, no matter how hard it gets. And every single one of you… you’ve been more than family to me. Magic isn’t in the tricks but in the people you share it with.”
Sylus clears his throat, suddenly fascinated with the floor. Koen shoves his hands deep into his pockets, and even Levi’s mask of confidence falters a little.
“I’m proud of you.” Oscar’s eyes find mine, and I feel the sting of tears behind my eyes. “Of all of you.”
It’s not the first time I’ve heard those words, not from him. But tonight, it’s different.
He’s not just reminding us.
He’s saying goodbye in case this blows up in our faces.
The realization grips me by the throat, and I forget how to breathe because this isn’t only a show. It’s everything. It’s our final act before the curtain falls, and we’re either free—or we’re done.
And somehow, despite everything, Oscar is standing here, steady and unshaken, loving us with everything he’s got. “We pull this off tonight, and everything changes. We finish this, and we’ll be sipping drinks on the beaches in Malta by Christmas morning.”
The thought of all of us somewhere safe and far away, the weight of everything finally off our shoulders, feels like a dream I’m scared to let myself believe in.
“All right.” Oscar claps his hands together. “Gentleman, this is the moment we’ve waited for. Let’s get this show started.” Koen and Levi exchange one last glance before heading toward the stage entrance.
Sylus ruffles his hair and heads toward the side exit to prep the illusions. Ezra straightens his jacket and slips into the crowd to take his position. The quiet hum of the crowd grows louder as the house lights dim, and the show is about to start.
“You know.” Oscar adjusts his cufflinks, his face still calm, but I notice his hand tremble.
Wait—
“You’ve always reminded me of someone.”
I blink at him, confused. “Who?”
“Me.” He chuckles as he turns to the monitor showing the stage. “Stubborn as hell, hard to trust anyone, and always thinking you have to carry everything yourself. But you don’t, Alaric. You never did.”
My throat tightens.
Oscar’s hand comes down on my shoulder. It’s the only touch that grounds me nowadays without making me panic.
“Whatever happens tonight, even if we end up in that damn cell again, you’re not alone. You’ve got us. And we’ve got you. I promised you no one would ever hurt you again, and I meant it.”
The words settle over me like armor.
I’ll be safe.
The spotlight blazes to life on stage, illuminating Koen and Levi as they step into view. The audience cheers, the noise crashing against the walls.
“Ladies, gents, and nonbinary friends!” Levi twirls Pebble in one hand like a flourish of a wand. “We love to have you here tonight! You’ve seen magic before, but tonight, you’re about to feel it.”
“He’s been practicing that line all week.” Koen adjusts his jacket.
A laugh escapes me, but it catches in my throat when I glance at Oscar.
He’s gripping the table behind him, his knuckles white.
“Oscar?”
He doesn’t answer.
My heart kicks up, panic tightening like a fist around my chest.
“Oscar!”
I grab his arm as he collapses, his weight heavy on me. The world slows, the noise of the crowd, the lights, all of it blurs as I fall to my knees with him.
His eyes flutter closed.
“Help!”
The stage lights flash above us as the crowd roars, unaware that everything is crumbling behind the curtain.
The door behind us flies open, and Sylus rushes in, eyes wide.
“Help!” I shout again. “Call someone!”
But even as Sylus drops down beside me with his phone to his ear, I know.
This is the moment.
The final act before the curtain falls.
And I’m not ready for it to end.
Nova knocks against me, rocking lightly on her skates. The motion jolts me back, shattering the memory, and my chest heaves with the breath I was holding.
My arm tightens instinctively around her waist, clinging to her warmth, her steady heartbeat. It grounds me, pulls me away from the weight of the past that presses like a vice around my ribs, and I’m able to focus on what the twins are doing again.
Oscar would’ve loved this.
The thought twists like a knife. Not the crowd he hated crowds as much as I do, but the spectacle, the audacity, the impossible magic of pulling off something like this. He would’ve eaten it up.
The ache of his absence claws up my throat until I have to swallow it or risk falling apart right here in front of all these people.
We’re still here, I remind myself. Even without Oscar, we’re still here.
And as Nova’s fingers lace lightly over mine, a spark of something stronger than grief ignites in me.
Resolve.
Because if we pull this off, everything changes.
If we pull this off, we’re free.
My gaze drifts to the screen overhead. Koen’s posture is straight, his face calm but somehow also intense, looking every bit like the mentalist commanding the stage.
“Tonight isn’t only about magic,” he starts, initiating part two of the plan.
“It’s about gratitude. About the people who stand with us, even in the hardest times.
And we want to take a moment to thank someone who’s been a pillar for us during these past few months after Oscar’s death. Veronica Harrington.”
“A pillar of what?” Sylus huffs in my ear, his disdain unmistakable even through the static. “Lies and bullshit? If Vegas had a trophy for backstabbing, she’d have a whole damn shelf.”
Nova huffs in amusement, and I glance down at her, catching her smile. I grin, leaning down to press another kiss to her temple, and she nudges me with her elbow.
The crowd claps politely as the camera pans to Veronica, standing near Nicholas at the edge of the circle.
Levi strides toward her, gesturing for her to join them, his usual charm dialed up to eleven.
Veronica waves him off with a graceful smile, but Nicholas leans in, saying something we can’t hear.
“Go on, Mother,” Nova says with a low voice, mimicking Nicholas.
I chuckle under my breath as we watch the screen. Veronica hesitates, then finally steps forward, her hand resting lightly on Nicholas’s arm before she lets Levi guide her into the center of the circle.
The crowd applauds as she stands between the twins, her smile practiced.
“Thank you, Veronica.” Koen turns to her. “For everything. Your support has meant so much to us and this city.”
Levi nods, flashing a grin that could charm the devil. “Vegas is lucky to have you.”
“This makes me sick.” Sylus’s voice crackles in my ear again, dripping with disdain.
“Same,” I mutter, my grip on Nova tightening as if her presence might shield me from the sight of Veronica basking in the attention.
Levi produces a microphone seemingly from thin air and offers it to Veronica with a flourish. “You’re our special guest tonight. If you’re willing, we’d love for you to play along with us for a little magic.”
Her smile brightens, and she takes the microphone with a gracious nod. “Of course. I’m always happy to help.” She gives Koen a pointed look. “But I won’t volunteer to be hypnotized.”
“Don’t worry, I have something else in mind.” Koen pulls out a folded piece of white paper, a red envelope, and a pen. He hands them to her with an air of ceremony. “I’d like you to write a confession on this paper. Something you’d be okay sharing with everyone later because I’m going to guess it.”
“A confession?” Veronica arches a perfectly sculpted brow.
Yeah, she’s suspicious as fuck.