Chapter 4
I Chose Them
Remi
The back door slams with enough force to rattle the measuring cups.
I flinch, hand frozen above the tray of still-warm cookies.
I’d expected cold shoulders today. Silence.
Maybe even eye rolls so sharp they left paper cuts.
But I hadn’t expected that. Coleman storming out like the whole world punched him in the gut.
I don’t know what happened. I don’t know what I did. But I want to find out.
My feet move toward the back door before I even realize I’m shifting.
But I stop.
Hand on the doorknob, heart thudding like it’s caught between two paths.
Go after him. Ask what’s wrong. Show him I can handle more than glitter and cookies.
But then— I think about Payton and Paige.
Still upstairs. Still silent. Still hiding.
And something deep in my chest pulls me in another direction.
Them.
I let go of the doorknob.
Quietly, I make my way upstairs, avoiding the creaky board near the third step like I’ve lived here for years. I pause in front of Payton’s room and hear soft voices—whispers in that not-so-secret twin code that says I’m hurting, but I’ll only tell you.
I knock once, gently.
The whispers stop. “Hey,” I say, leaning in. “Sorry to interrupt. Just wanted to check in.”
Two sets of eyes meet mine from the bed. Payton’s arms are crossed, chin tilted like a dare. Paige looks softer, but cautious—like I might disappear if they blink too fast.
“I, uh…” I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. “I saw your dad leave. He seemed upset.”
They don’t say anything. I lower my voice. “Do you know what happened?”
Paige shrugs. “He gets mad a lot lately.” Payton doesn’t speak, but I see her jaw tighten.
“I’m not trying to pry,” I say gently. “I just want to make sure you’re okay.”
More silence. Then, finally, Payton mutters, “It’s Stella. He gets like that when we talk about her.”
Stella. Not Mom. I nod, slow and steady, like I’m not choking on the weight behind that.
“Well,” I say softly, “if you don’t want to talk about her… we don’t have to.”
Paige looks up, brows pulling together. “Then what would we talk about?”
I smile. “Cookies.” That earns me a blink from Payton.
“Cookies?” Paige repeats.
“Yep. I made you some.”
“You didn’t have to,” Payton says, trying to sound indifferent.
“I know. But I wanted to.”
They exchange a look.
“And they’re my brother Matthew’s favorite,” I add, grinning a little. “I have five brothers, and let me tell you… if you can make a dozen cookies stretch between five grown boys, you earn your gold star.”
That gets a tiny, involuntary smile from Paige. Payton bites the inside of her cheek like she doesn’t want to look interested—but her shoulders drop a little.
“Are they chocolate chip?” she asks, deadpan.
“Double chocolate. With a pinch of cinnamon.”
“Show me,” Paige says, hopping off the bed.
I lead them downstairs like I’m not holding my breath. Like this isn’t the first time today they’ve walked toward me instead of away.
Five minutes later, they’re both sitting at the bar in the kitchen, trying very hard not to devour the cookies like they’ve been starved for sugar and safety all day.
Paige breaks hers in half and lines the crumbs up neatly. Payton pretends she doesn’t like hers—until I see her sneak a second one when she thinks I’m not looking.
And for the first time since I stepped into this house, the silence feels different. Less like distance. More like peace. Then the back door opens.
Coleman steps in, jaw tight, shoulders drawn—but when he sees them, seated at the bar with chocolate on their lips and me leaning against the counter like I’ve always been here…
He stops.
And for a moment, the house holds its breath.