Beneath the Broken Sky (Wisteria Creek #2)

Chapter 1

Blair

The cicadas hummed their summer song, low and steady, as I stood barefoot on the back porch of our farmhouse.

The boards were warm beneath my feet, the last of the evening sun slipping over the horizon and painting the sky in streaks of pink and purple.

Fireflies were beginning to twinkle in the tall grass, tiny sparks of magic, and for a moment, I let myself imagine them as little lanterns guiding our future. Our future.

I pressed a hand to my stomach, not because there was news yet, but because I wanted there to be.

It had been just over three years since I moved into this house and started my life with him.

Greyson and I had been trying for a while now.

Some days, the hope made me buoyant, light enough to float.

Other days, the waiting felt like an anchor. But tonight, I chose hope.

The screen door creaked open and Greyson stepped out, two glasses of sweet tea in hand. He pressed one into mine, his thumb brushing the inside of my wrist with that familiar, grounding touch.

“You’re quiet, honey bee,” he murmured, settling beside me on the steps.

I smiled, leaning into him. “Just thinking.”

“Dangerous.” He grinned, then kissed the top of my head.

I laughed softly, letting the sound get lost in the hum of the evening.

For all the storms we’d weathered, both the ones inside us and the ones that had torn through Wisteria Creek, peace like this still surprised me.

I’d spent years believing I didn’t deserve it.

Now, with Greyson’s arm around me and a future waiting just beyond the horizon, I couldn’t imagine life any other way.

Still, my thoughts tugged toward my best friend. Madison.

She’d been over earlier with Olive, dropping off a basket of peaches from the orchard.

Olive had darted through our kitchen barefoot, brown curls bouncing, asking if she could ‘help Aunt Bee’ bake a pie.

’ I’d given in, of course, even though half the sugar ended up dusted across the counter.

Madison had laughed, tired but soft, the kind of laugh she didn’t give away easily.

She was doing better, stronger every day, but I could see it in her eyes. The worry. The weight. Raising Olive on her own had turned her into iron and glass at once. Strong, but fragile in ways she’d never admit.

Greyson must’ve felt my shift, because he tipped his head toward me. “You’re thinking about her.”

I nodded. “She’s got so much on her plate. She never asks for help.”

“Does that sound familiar?” His smirk was gentle, not sharp.

I elbowed him. “I’m serious. She’s got Olive, work, everything… I just want her to experience more than just being in survival mode. She deserves happiness too.”

Before Greyson could answer, thunder rumbled low in the distance. My eyes flicked to the horizon. Dark clouds were rolling in, heavy and fast. The fireflies disappeared as the air thickened, charged with the promise of a storm.

Greyson squeezed my hand. “Looks like we’re in for it tonight.”

I shivered, not from the breeze, but from something else, a flicker of unease I couldn’t name.

I didn’t know then how much that storm would change things.

For all of us.