15. Jules #2
I watch her more carefully now. Not the surface or the control, but what sits beneath it. The way she holds everything so tightly it appears effortless. The way she feels something, then rewrites it into something useful. Something safe.
Camille does not feel nothing. She feels too much. She just files it under something else.
My phone vibrates before I can decide what to do with that information.
MINA: Someone please come eat these fries with me.
MINA: I don’t want to go back to sleep yet.
MINA: Also the thing from Harbor’s Edge feels close again.
KAIA: Close how?
MINA: Not here exactly.
MINA: More like it keeps catching up with us wherever we go.
REMY: Why did you lead with the fries?
MINA: Because I knew Jules would answer.
JULES: Weaponizing vulnerability, supernatural dread, and potatoes. I’m so proud of you.
JULES: On my way.
I stand and remove the ice pack from my knee.
Camille’s eyes narrow. “Where are you going?”
“The girls have fries.”
“It is after three.”
“Exactly. Breakfast.”
“You require sleep.”
I slide open the balcony door. “You’re awake.”
“I am working.”
“And I’m socializing. We all have our burdens.”
Her expression communicates several paragraphs about recovery requirements, poor decision-making, and my inevitable physical decline.
“Sleep is important,” she says, instead.
“So are fries.”
I step back inside before she can produce supporting documentation. The bond carries her irritation after me, warm and strangely familiar.
I leave her on the balcony with her tablet, her glasses, and whatever she still refuses to name.
And for some reason, she is much harder to ignore than she was yesterday.
Yeah.
That is definitely a problem.
***
The rooftop terrace is technically off-limits after midnight.
Which is exactly why we’re all out here.
Mina is cross-legged on one of the cushioned loungers with a carton of fries balanced in her lap, telling us about the nightmare that woke her up. Apparently, we were trapped inside a haunted supermarket while a seven-foot rabbit in an Eon security uniform chased us through the frozen-food aisle.
“It kept asking to see our tour credentials,” she says, completely serious. “But none of us had them.”
“That’s horrifying,” I say, stealing another fry. “Imagine dying because Kaia forgot the lanyards.”
“I would not forget the lanyards,” Kaia says.
“In the dream, you tried to fight it with a baguette,” Mina adds.
Remy looks up from her carton. “Was it at least stale?”
“No. Very soft.”
Kaia looks mildly offended.
I nearly choke laughing. My knee protests when I curl forward, the ice pack slipping sideways, but it is worth it. Mina starts giggling too, then Remy does that thing where she pretends she is not laughing even though her shoulders are moving.
For a few minutes, everything feels normal.
The city glows below us. We are exhausted, bruised, and eating fries we definitely should not have ordered after three in the morning. Mina’s nightmare gets progressively more ridiculous as it goes on. By the end, the rabbit is six meters tall and Remy has joined its side.
I love these girls.
Even when Kaia is only half here.
She and Evie have been tense since we left for tour, which is unfortunate because I like Evie. More importantly, Kaia likes Evie enough to turn every problem between them into a silent endurance test.
She is sitting at the edge of the lounge area with her phone in one hand, screen lit, thumb hovering above a message she does not send. After a few seconds, she deletes it and starts again.
Not the group chat, obviously.
I watch her repeat the process three times before I say anything.
“Are you going to text her, or just aggressively think about it until the battery dies?”
Kaia does not look up. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Sure.”
“And even if I did, it would be none of your business,” she adds.
“So you are texting Evie.”
Her jaw tightens. “I’m handling it.”
I grin. There it is.
“Handling it,” I repeat. “Right. Of course. My favorite strategy. Very effective. No notes.”
Mina snorts into her sleeve. Remy does not move, but her attention shifts.
Kaia’s jaw tightens. “It’s not something I need commentary on, Jules.”
“Oh, I disagree.” I push myself up, keeping most of my weight off my injured knee. “I think it’s exactly something you need commentary on. You’ve been ‘handling it’ for what, years now?”
Kaia’s gaze snaps to mine. “That isn’t relevant.”
“Everything is relevant. Especially when it’s this obvious.”
“It’s not obvious.”
“It is to literally everyone who has eyes.”
Mina makes a small, guilty noise. Remy exhales like she is already tired of this conversation, which is unfair because we have barely started.
Kaia straightens, slipping into that leader posture like armor. “We have more important things to focus on.”
There it is. Classic Kaia move: the shutdown.
I tilt my head. She looks solid, composed, untouchable, except she is still holding her phone like it might bite her.
“No, hold on. You don’t get to shut this down and make us all pretend you’re fine. You’re staring at your phone like it personally betrayed you.”
Mina immediately studies her fries.
Traitor.
Remy pushes away from the railing. “This is going nowhere productive.”
“Oh, it’s going somewhere. You just don’t like the destination.”
Kaia’s patience is visibly thinning. “We are not having this conversation. No offense, Jules, but you don’t know much about relationships.”
I lift my hand slowly, dramatically, and point at my ring.
“Excuse me,” I say, perfectly calm. “Who is the only married one here?”
Mina chokes on a laugh and clamps a hand over her mouth.
Remy closes her eyes. “Not this again.”
Kaia stares at me, completely unimpressed. “You are not using that as a qualification.”
“Oh, I absolutely am. It’s my only qualification. I’m leaning into it.”
“It’s not even real.”
Ouch.
Okay. Rude.
I recover instantly. “Wow.” I press a hand to my chest. “You wound me. Deeply. This is a sacred union, Kaia. There are legal documents.”
“Contracts,” Remy corrects.
“Romantic contracts.”
Mina is fully hiding her face now.
Kaia exhales sharply. “This is not the same thing.”
“Isn’t it? Because from where I’m standing, I’ve spent more time actually talking to my fake wife this week than you’ve spent talking to your real girlfriend since we left Los Angeles.
I know you’re hiding a lot of what’s happening here from Evie, and I can tell you now, that is not going to go over well for you. ”
Silence. Mina peeks up. Remy watches Kaia now, her expression unreadable.
Kaia’s grip tightens around her phone. “Be careful.”
I do not back off. Of course I do not.
“When’s the last time you actually said what you wanted?” I ask. “Not what makes sense. Not what’s safest. What you wanted.”
“That’s not how life works, Jules.”
“Maybe that’s the problem.”
The silence lasts longer this time.
Kaia looks away first. Only for a second, but I see it. I always see it.
She exhales slowly. “This is not your situation to manage.”
“No,” I agree. “It’s yours. You just don’t seem like you’re doing a great job of it.”
Kaia looks at me like she is trying to decide whether I crossed a line or merely pointed at one she did not want to see.
“You’re one to talk,” she says.
Oh.
That is good.
I grin. “Yeah. I am.”
“You don’t say what you want, Jules. You say whatever gets the biggest reaction.”
The space between us sharpens.
“That’s not true.”
“Isn’t it?” Kaia sets her phone down. “Have you said a single honest thing to Camille since this ‘marriage’ started? Something you actually meant, without turning it into a joke five seconds later?”
Heat climbs my throat. “We’re not talking about me.”
“Of course not. We never are.”
“I’m trying to help you,” I tell Kaia.
“I didn’t ask for your help.”
“No, you just sit there making yourself miserable and expect the rest of us not to notice,” I snap.
“And you make everything entertaining so no one notices anything real about you.”
That lands hard enough to wipe the smile from my face. For once, I have nothing ready.
“Stop.” Mina moves between us, clutching the carton of fries against her chest like a peace offering. “Both of you. This stopped being funny several minutes ago.”
Kaia and I keep staring at each other.
Remy shifts beside the railing. “She’s right.”
The anger still crackles beneath my skin, hot and defensive, but Mina looks exhausted. Kaia does too, though she would probably rather walk into traffic than admit it.
I step back first. “Fine.”
Kaia picks up her phone again. Her thumb hovers over the screen just as it did before.
This time, she sends the message.
So at least there’s that.
One of us deserves to be truly happy, after all.