Chapter 14 Nil #2
“West wing,” Stan says, pointing at the taped-up doors. “Kaye’s work in progress. Nurseries, rec rooms, more guest rooms. I stopped listening after she banned sex swings from the ceiling beams.”
Em blinks, eyes wide. I chuckle through my chest, trailing after her.
When she moves, I move with her, matching her pace.
She walks slower than usual, taking in details like she’s committing them to memory.
I let the distance between us stay easy, something she can close or widen on her own terms. When she walks closer to me, I ignore the grip in my chest.
Stan stretches his arms out some more, spinning as he walks. “Don’t worry, babe, we can attach one in our room,” he says, eyeing me, then Em. “They’ll never know. You’d keep our dirty little sex swing secret, right, doc?”
Em nods silently, almost smiling at Stan’s ridiculous antics. But I’m relieved when I watch her shoulders lower while we keep walking down this hall and into the other side of the house.
“East wing,” Stan points out. “Where people pretend they sleep but mostly don’t.”
He stops at the first door. “This is Damon and Kaye’s bedroom. Biggest bedroom in the house. Tragically thin walls.”
Em’s eyes shine behind her glasses when she smiles a bit more. I snort before I can stop myself. Stan hears it and beams.
“You’re lucky,” he tells Em. “Your room’s all the way at the other end of the hall, unless listening to incredibly enthusiastic marital bonding is your thing.”
She angles her head up to Stan. “Is it really that audible?”
Stan grins, unabashed. “If you’re curious, our room’s right beside yours, so you’ll hear plenty of—”
I catch his wrist, forcing him to move. He laughs as his fingers close around mine.
The next door gets a dramatic pause. “And here,” Stan says, tapping it with one knuckle, “is Sterling and Elle’s room.”
The sound of my sister’s name gets my attention in an instant.
“I’m convinced Sterling has some sort of reward system goin’ in there,” Stan muses. “Every dozen takedowns of criminal syndicates in town, he gets a free-for-all night with his wife.”
The glare I give him could send him to his grave. I kinda want it to.
Stan freezes, then lifts his hands in surrender. “Okay, yeah, babe. Bad joke.” He smiles like he doesn’t mean his words at all. “I forget you and Elle are siblings sometimes. Shoot me.”
“Terrible liar,” I mutter, frowning while he laughs.
Em looks between us, then asks, “Where is Elle at the moment?”
Stan relaxes his hands, looking relieved with the redirect. “Honeymoon.”
Em hums, thoughtful. “And she continues to go by Elle? I’ve seen a different name from the Adels’ database.”
I don’t interrupt, but my curiosity piques. My eyes go to Stan, waiting to see if he knows.
“It’s her choice,” he says, easy with a shrug of one shoulder. “I’m sure she’ll tell you about it once she’s back.”
Em nods, satisfied with that. I get the sense she’s asking because she feels safe enough to be curious when it’s just us.
She asks a few more questions about the Song-Smiths while we walk. Stan answers each one but whines about why Em hasn’t asked about him. She tells Stan she already knows a lot about him. Stan grins at that, then stops short at another door and gestures between me and him. “Here’s our room, babe.”
He pushes the door open with a flourish and steps aside, eyes moving to me and Em, clearly expecting our reactions.
Warm air brushes my face. The smell hits me next. Sweet, smoky, and familiar. Everything in there screams Stan too.
The room is big and sprawling. Dark wood furniture. A wide bed that’s claimed clearly by him and a pile of clothes on top of it. Shelves crowded with comic books, half taken-apart tech, and handheld consoles. An Xbox hooked to a projector across the room.
A fireplace glows along one wall, casting light across the floor. I stop just inside the doorway, pointedly looking at the flat-looking flames.
Stan follows my gaze. “Fake,” he says quickly. “Electric. I didn’t want to come back to a cold room.”
“Good thinking,” I murmur.
He steps in close behind me, chest brushing my back, mouth near my ear. “Wanted it warm, hoping to take someone like you back home with me.”
I roll my eyes, guessing he left the thing on before he left for the ship last week. Now, he’s trying to spin it into something romantic. “Nice try,” I whisper to him.
He smiles easy anyway. “Hey, that’s my line, Ocean Eyes.”
Em lingers at the doorway, peeking in with interest. “It suits you, Stan,” she says.
“It does. And soon,” he adds, sliding an arm around my shoulders, “it’ll be decorated to suit us.”
His hold’s pretty possessive, but I don’t mind. I lean back into him instead, letting him have the contact.
He smiles at Em over my shoulder. “You’re welcome to visit. Anytime, even when I’m buck naked.”
I elbow him. “Stan.”
“Ow! Sorry,” he says, acting innocent. “Correction, Em—even when Nil and I are both buck naked.”
Em fixes her glasses and doesn’t say anything. I glare at Stan, while he backs out of our room with a satisfied smile and points down the hall.
“Alright, one more stop.” His smile stays. “It’s the most important stop in Stan’s Great Tour of the Knights Estate, trademark in process.”
I roll my eyes but give him the tiniest smirk I can’t stop. His eyes match his smile. Em and I follow his steps, which stop at the end of the hall.
“Honor’s all yours, gorgeous,” he tells her, opening the door. “The first step into your new home.”
Em hesitates for a second before stepping in. The door swings open, light spilling out.
She walks in. I follow a few steps behind, giving her space while taking in her new room myself.
Gray furnishings. A wide bed. A desk set against the far wall. A computer with a chair. Her tablet. Her baggage. And some medical equipment I recognize from the MedBay.
Em turns slowly, eyes moving from corner to corner.
Stan points at the corner desk with the equipment connected to it. “You’re probably wondering about all that.”
She looks back at him, waiting.
“Idris sent a jet and a van ahead,” Stan explains. “Had some of your things brought over from the ship ASAP, way before we even boarded the private jet. Just in case, I guess. He figured you might want the option.”
I study her face as she absorbs all that. Her glasses slide a tad down the bridge of her nose. I want to fix it for her, but she reaches for it and does it herself.
Stan can’t keep the quiet going for long. “By the way, Em, I volunteer as a guinea pig again. Or your research assistant.” He ticks them off finger by finger. “Coffee runner. Moral support. Whatever you want.”
“I volunteer too,” I add.
They both look at me. I hold Em’s wide eyes.
“What you were working on, Em… It’ll change the world.” I loosen my arms, almost reaching a hand out to her. But I stop myself. “You don’t owe anyone anything. You can take your time. Or never touch the stuff again.”
Stan nods, grin back on. “If you want it gone, we’ll make it disappear.”
Her shoulders rise with an inhale, then go down as she lets the breath out. “Noted,” she says. “If you don’t mind, I’d like some time to settle in.”
“Take all the time you want, Em.” Stan starts heading to the door. I’m right behind him. “Kitchen’s always open, okay? There’s even sushi in the fridge.”
I nudge him with an elbow. An annoyed snarl almost slips past my lips.
“Snacks,” he corrects smoothly. “All kinds of snacks. Fridge, pantry, counters.”
Glancing at Em, it doesn’t look like she heard us anyway. Her eyes are focused on the desk. Her mouth’s a small frown.
“We’ll give you space,” I say, pushing Stan out before he says anything else.
“Oh, wait!” Stan digs into his back pocket and pulls out his flip phone.
He hands it to her. Her fingers close around it automatically. She looks down at the phone like she’s not sure what to do with it.
“You don’t have to use it,” Stan says quickly. “I just—” He shrugs. “Sometimes it helps to know you can reach someone. My other phone number’s saved in there.”
She nods, staring up at him with her big brown eyes. “Okay.”
“Yeah, okay.” Stan smiles, sounding relieved.
Then he gives her a little bow while I shove him out the door. “She asked for space, Stan.”
“Welcome home, Em!” he shouts that last bit before I pull her door closed.
“Stan,” I hiss out his name, while I follow him down the hall.
He glances back. “What, babe?”
“She can’t have raw fish,” I remind him, voice grave. “Remember what Idris told us?”
“Oh, right.” His lips curve up. “Perfect. More for us, then.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“But it’s what I heard,” he says cheerfully, pivoting on his heel and heading toward the back of the house.
Glass doors open onto the gardens, and cool air rushes in. The grounds stretch wide. Paths curve through trimmed hedges and frosted flower beds, waiting for seeds and springtime. Reminds me of a simpler time.
Stan spins around with his arms out. “Isn’t it beautiful here? I’d help Kaye take care of it, but I’m pretty sure we kill plants by proxy.”
I stare at the sad-looking soil. Something as modest as dirt is making my ribs ache. “I don’t remember everything, but I think my sister used to have a decent green thumb.”
“Oh, we know.” Stan grins. “She has tons of great ideas to liven up the place.”
We walk deeper into the garden. Stan keeps talking, pointing things out with exaggerated commentary. More empty flower beds line the path. Benches sit half hidden beneath vines. A fountain gurgles close by, water trickling over carved stone.
Stan gestures at it. “That thing’s haunted.”
“Haunted?” I ask.
“Yeah, by unresolved sexual tension and poor life choices,” he says. “You stand near it too long and start questioning your morals. Also, how is it still on? It’s winter here. That thing should be frozen shut.”
I snort despite myself.
Then we reach the greenhouse.
It’s set all the way back, glass walls fogged up with light glowing from inside. I spot movement through the panes. A few shadowy figures moving around. My first thought’s staff. Damon mentioned them earlier. So did Kayla. But I haven’t seen too many inside since the jet landed.
Stan reaches for the handle. The door opens. Warmth spills out first. Damp air. The smell of earth and something sweet like tea and flowers.
Then I see her.
Everything else vanishes away.
The glass walls. The plants. Stan’s voice trailing off in my ears. Kayla and Sterling standing on either side of her. None of it matters. There’s only her.
My sister.
Long brown hair pulled back loose. Deep brown eyes that find mine instantly.
She looks exactly how I’ve always remembered her. I don’t breathe. I don’t think I can.
“Calix,” she says, smiling right at me.
The sound of my real name hits me square in the chest. A shaky breath leaves my lips. My eyes sting. My lashes get wet.
That voice I tried to remember this morning—the warmth carried in calling me Calix—was hers.
She moves fast, crossing the space between us before my body remembers how to work. Her arms wrap around me, awfully warm and devastatingly familiar.
My body trembles. My face burns. My eyes shut. In my mind, I feel like I’m small again. So much younger. Feeling safe in a way I forgot existed.
I clutch her back without thinking, face buried in her hair. My chest caves in on itself. The pressure builds fast behind my eyes, but I fight it.
Tears spill anyway.
I laugh and choke on sobs at the same time, breath shuddering as I hold her. Right here. In my arms. And I’m in hers.
“Hey,” she murmurs, hands firm on my back. “It’s okay, Calix. You can cry.”
I nod against her, throat tight, body shaking with it. My vision blurs completely when I try to blink. I try to fight back a few more tears, but…
Who am I kidding? I let myself cry.
We survived family. We survived fire. We survived hell on earth.
But here we are. Breathing, thriving, alive with this second chance. And I’m never letting that go.