18. Blade
BLADE
Morning routines settle faster than I expect.
Two weeks ago, Nora still looked faintly startled every time one of us showed up at her house before sunrise carrying coffee and breakfast sandwiches like we belonged there.
Now, she just unlocks the front door before we even knock half the time, because apparently Paxton has started sitting near the front window waiting for us every morning.
I try not to think too hard about how much I enjoy that.
The cold Nevada air bites through my jacket as I climb out of the SUV beside Stryker while Lena unbuckles herself in the backseat.
The house glows warm against the gray morning sky, kitchen light already on, thin smoke curling from the chimney now that temperatures have started dropping harder overnight.
Beside me, Stryker balances two cardboard drink carriers in one hand while muttering under his breath about traffic around the industrial district. He spent most of the drive taking coded calls through the truck speakers with Reyes and Maddox while Lena colored quietly in the backseat.
Currently we are working from a place of ‘too.’ Too much movement around Vegas, too much silence from Joquain, too little information about the whole situation.
None of us like it.
Still, the second Lena hops out of the SUV and starts hurrying toward the front porch, Stryker’s whole posture changes automatically. The tension in his shoulders eases just enough to notice while he follows after her carrying breakfast like this is the most normal thing in the world.
Maybe for us it’s becoming exactly that.
The front door opens before we even reach it.
Paxton beams up at us from the doorway while Nora stands behind him tying her hair into a loose braid.
She’s wearing leggings and one of those oversized sweaters she seems to live in around the house, pale blue this morning, sleeves shoved halfway to her elbows while she balances her coffee mug against her hip.
Paxton immediately signs excitedly toward Lena, You are late.
Lena gasps dramatically before signing back, No. Dad stopped for coffee. He took forever. He is late.
Stryker snorts quietly behind her and says out loud while I sign for him since his hands are full, Five minutes is not forever.
Paxton looks at him very seriously before signing, It is if pancakes are waiting.
That earns a laugh from Nora while she steps aside to let us inside. “Honestly, he has a point.”
Warmth hits immediately once the door shuts behind us.
The house already feels different now than it did when Nora first arrived in Black Rock.
Slowly but surely she has been moving things in.
Viper has been gone for about two weeks.
He told us how they left things. He’s convinced she hates him now, and I know that’s why he doesn’t call or text her.
Instead, he’s constantly asking the two of us for pictures and updates.
The hallway smells faintly of cinnamon and fresh paint, while Paxton’s backpack sits beside where Lena has already dropped hers near the stairs, like it belongs there already.
Lena and Paxton disappear toward the kitchen together still signing back and forth in increasingly confident combinations of ASL and improvised nonsense.
Lena’s improving quickly. Faster than Stryker or Viper did initially.
She practices constantly now, mostly because Paxton reacts to every successful sentence like she personally cured world hunger.
Nora takes the coffee tray from me while glancing between Stryker and I carefully. “You two seem distracted today.”
Stryker answers immediately. “Work.”
She leans against the counter, narrowing her eyes slightly. “That’s becoming a suspiciously broad answer.”
“It’s shipping,” he replies smoothly.
“It’s always shipping.”
“That’s generally how jobs work. You do the same one every day.”
I hide my amusement behind my coffee while Nora glares at him mildly. She notices things more now.
While she definitely hasn’t clued in on the truth of our ‘work,’ she’s started picking up on small things.
Shifts in mood, urgent whispered calls, how often one of us suddenly needs to “handle company issues” in another city.
At first she accepted every explanation automatically because she was too busy rebuilding her life.
Now curiosity keeps slipping through around the edges.
Paxton suddenly appears beside me and taps my forearm for attention before signing carefully, Can you tie my shoe again?
“Other one untied already?” I ask aloud automatically, while signing too.
He nods solemnly. Shoelaces are evil.
“That’s objectively true,” Nora says while taking plates from the cabinet.
I crouch beside him near the kitchen table and retie the sneaker while Lena explains something animatedly beside us about beanbag chairs in the library corner. Paxton watches her, eyes bouncing between her face and her hands.
Across the room, I catch Nora watching all of us again. She does that a lot lately to. At first she looked at us like temporary chaos she needed to manage carefully around Paxton. Now sometimes I catch her staring like she’s trying to understand how we became part of her routines so quickly.
Honestly, I wonder the same thing.
Breakfast falls into easy noise after that.
Stryker argues with Lena about finishing fruit before syrup.
I refill coffee cups and answer emails between bites of pancakes while trying not to think about the stack of encrypted updates waiting back at the clubhouse.
Nora reorganizes Paxton’s backpack three separate times while pretending she isn’t anxious about school drop-off.
Despite the fact that it’s been two weeks of this, she still has nerves about him being there.
This feels dangerously normal. That thought stays with me while we load everyone into vehicles twenty minutes later.
The convoy-style arrangement developed naturally somehow. Nora drives her Subaru with Paxton while Stryker and I take Lena in the SUV behind them. Every morning we leave together like some strange fractured family pretending not to notice what it looks like from the outside.
Lena climbs into the backseat beside her backpack while Stryker starts the engine.
“She looks tired,” he says quietly once the kid can’t hear.
“Nora?”
He nods once while pulling onto the road behind the Subaru. “Still thinking too hard.”
I glance through the windshield toward Nora’s car ahead of us. She’s buckling him in before closing the door to climb into the driver’s seat.
“She’ll settle eventually,” I respond.
“Maybe.”
But he doesn’t sound convinced. Neither am I honestly.
We pull into the private school parking lot twenty minutes later beneath a gray overcast sky threatening rain again. Kids spill across sidewalks while parents hurry beside them carrying lunchboxes and oversized backpacks.
We park in the same spots in the back of the lot right next to each other every morning.
The moment we’re parked and the car is off, Lena hops out of the SUV first and is at Paxton’s door, opening it while signing excitedly about some science activity happening today.
Paxton immediately matches her energy while Nora climbs out slower beside them, unbuckling his car seat and adjusting his coat collar automatically as he scrambles out.
I watch her for a second too long. She looks softer lately. Still guarded. Still cautious. But softer around us specifically. More relaxed when the kids are laughing. Less tense every time one of us reaches automatically for something heavy or difficult before she can handle it herself.
Stryker and I have had many conversations over the past two weeks.
We are very well aware that the reason she has been so quick to relax is because of the kids.
Paxton and Lena have paved the way for trust and family.
They are our pathway to her heart too. For that alone, I’d probably hand those kids anything they’d asked for.
The moment we are all out and walking towards the building, we fall into step, each of us flanking Nora, the kids signing animatedly in front of us.
Stryker falls into step beside her while we walk the kids toward the front entrance. “You look exhausted.”
“Are you sleeping?”
Nora sighs immediately. “You’re both impossible.”
“That’s not a denial.”
“I was up late working.”
“Mm,” Stryker hums back.
She narrows her eyes at him. “That sounded judgmental.”
“It was concern,” he protests.
“Those are unfortunately similar in your voice.”
I laugh quietly beside them while opening the school door for Lena and Paxton.
The kids disappear inside together immediately after saying quick goodbyes, Paxton remembering to wave toward us before Lena drags him toward the hallway.
She walks him to class every morning before going to the third grade hallways.
We walk to the parent sign in and today I sign for Lena and Nora for Paxton while Stryker picks up yearbook forms for both kids. Once we’re back outside, we linger for a second at her Subaru.
Normally this is where at least one of us finds a reason to head back to her house, spend time with her. Today neither of us offers. Stryker rubs one hand across the back of his neck before glancing toward me briefly. Too much happening already today. Too many calls waiting.
“We’ve got work to take care of, but we’ll be over for dinner tonight,” he says finally.
Her expression shifts slightly at that.
Then, she asks, “Okay, and still no word on when Viper’s getting back?”
Stryker looks downright delighted by the question. I barely keep my expression neutral.
Nora catches both reactions instantly and looks horrified. “Oh my God. Don’t do that.”
“Do what?” I ask mildly.
“You know what.”
Stryker folds his arms while leaning against the SUV. “You ask about him every morning.”
“I do not.”
“You absolutely do.”
Her cheeks pink immediately. “I’m asking because he disappeared basically.”