50

Senna didn't even touch her waffle.

She mumbled something when I gave it to her this morning-something about being tired-and curled up with her hoodie over her head. That was hours ago. She's still in the same spot.

Her arm twitched once. That was it.

Auggie's curled up at the foot of her bed with his blanket and his old stuffed seal, Captain Wiggles. His feet keep kicking off the covers. He's watching her like she might float away.

"She's still not better," he says quietly.

I nod. I don't like when Senna gets like this. I don't really get what's wrong, but I know how it feels.

Like the room forgets how to smile.

And when Senna isn't smiling, something's off in the whole world.

"Should we call him?" Auggie whispers.

"Yeah," I say.

He doesn't even say the name. He doesn't have to.

We both know who he is.

Stairboy.

I sneak her phone from the pillow beside her. The lock screen is a photo of Auggie and I.

I swipe up, find his name, and press the little video button.

Ring.

Ring.

Ring.

Then his face appears.

He's got on a hoodie, hair messy like he just woke up. But his eyes go soft the second he sees us.

"Hey, Bear. Auggie."

"Everything okay?"

I shake my head.

"She's really quiet today," I whisper. "She didn't even eat."

"She didn't want to draw, either," Auggie adds. "We tried to cheer her up but it didn't work."

"So we're calling the emergency adult."

Luca's whole expression changes. Not scared-just... real serious. His voice is low.

"Can I see her?"

I turn the phone and hold it steady. She's curled up facing the wall, arms wrapped around her pillow like she's trying to disappear.

Luca's voice is barely a breath now.

"Poor girl."

"She's sad, Mama yelled at her yesterday, " Auggie says softly.

"She hasn't said it," I add, "but we can tell."

There's a pause.

Then Luca looks at us again.

"Thank you. For looking after her."

We nod.

"She's our sister," Auggie says like it's the most obvious thing in the world.

"She's like the moon," I say. "She makes everything better just by being here."

"Even when she's quiet," Auggie agrees.

Luca rubs his eyes. Like maybe he's crying a little but pretending not to.

"She's lucky to have you guys."

"You're part of the team now," I say. "We decided."

"Yeah," Auggie grins. "Even if you don't know how to make waffles."

"I do know how," Luca laughs.

"Prove it. Come over. Tomorrow."

"Yeah," I add. "Pancakes and sadness are on the menu."

Senna stirs behind us.

We both freeze.

"Abort," Auggie hisses.

I quickly end the call, slip her phone back under the blanket, and dive onto the bed like we've been here all along.

She rolls onto her back, eyelids fluttering open just a bit.

"What are you two doing?" she mumbles.

"Snuggling," we say at the same time.

"Nothing suspicious," I add.

"Did you... touch my phone?"

"No," Auggie says.

"Why?"

"It's warm."

"Friendship heat," I say quickly.

"Go back to sleep," Auggie says, crawling closer and tucking her blanket up to her chin.

And she does.

Eventually.

But before she drifts off, I see the corner of her mouth twitch-just a little.

------------------------------------------------

Auggie's dancing to Epic: The Musical in the middle of the kitchen floor.Bear is balancing three forks in one hand like a magician.

Luca is failing - spectacularly - at flipping a pancake while whispering, "Physics is a lie."

And I'm curled up on the counter with my hoodie sleeves over my hands and my heart, for once, not clawing at my ribs.

It's warm.

It's safe.

It's good.

Until the front door slams.

"Senna?!"

My mother's voice - sharp, suspicious.

I freeze.

Bear drops a fork.

Luca stiffens.

Auggie turns down the speaker.

Too late.

My mom storms into the kitchen like a hurricane in heels, keys jangling, still in her work blazer, eyes scanning the scene.

She stops cold.

Her eyes land on Luca.

White. Male. Tall. Unfamiliar.

In our kitchen.

Cooking.

With me.

"Who is that?"

Her voice is calm. But in that terrifying, ice-storm calm way.

"Mom," I start carefully, "this is-"

"Senna. Who is this boy?"

Luca, being the ridiculous angel that he is, sets down the spatula, wipes his hands on a kitchen towel, and offers his most polite smile.

"Good morning, ma'am. I'm Luca."

He extends a hand.

She does not take it.

"Are your parents aware you're in someone else's home?" she asks flatly.

"Yes, ma'am."

"And do we look like we're aware of you?"

Silence.

Luca slowly lowers his hand.

"He's my friend," I say quickly. "We've been friends since the start of the year."

"You never mentioned him," she snaps.

"You never asked," I shoot back before I can stop myself.

Her eyebrows rise. My stomach tightens.

"And you thought it was appropriate to bring a boy into this house? When no one was home?"

"The boys were home," I mutter.

"They are children, Senna."

My dad walks in behind her, just arriving from a trip, suitcase still in his grip.

He stops when he sees Luca. Then frowns.

"What's going on?"

"That's what I'd like to know," my mom says, spinning on her heel. "Our daughter brought home some strange boy without permission."

"Dad, this is Luca," I say, stepping forward.

"Luca who?"

"Churchill," Luca offers, quietly.

That doesn't mean anything to them.

Not yet.

"Are you dating our daughter?" my dad asks bluntly.

"Yes, sir," Luca says. "But I care about her. A lot."

"So what do you call this?" my mom gestures. "Breakfast dates with unsupervised children?"

Auggie whispers, "Stair boy's in trouble."

Bear hisses, "Shh!"

"Mom," I say, voice shaking, "he's not like that."

"He's a stranger in our house."

"He's not a stranger to me!"

"That's the problem!" she snaps.

Luca doesn't speak.

He doesn't push.

He doesn't explain himself - not fully.

Because he knows what I need right now isn't him taking over.

It's me.

Standing up.

Or not.

My hands tremble at my sides.

All I want to do is disappear.

All I want is for this to be over.

But I look at Bear, hugging my thigh. Auggie, watching with wide eyes.

And I realize:

If I shrink now, they'll think this is who I am - a girl who hides even in her own home.

So I swallow.

And say:

"Luca's been there when you haven't."

My mom freezes.

"Excuse me?"

"When I was breaking, when I couldn't eat, when I couldn't breathe - he was the only person who saw me. You didn't even notice."

"That's not fair-"

"No. What's not fair is you seeing me as your perfect daughter and ignoring everything else. What's not fair is assuming I'm fine because I get straight A's. What's not fair is treating Luca like a threat because you don't know him - but you never cared to ask."

My dad steps forward, voice low.

"You're still nineteen, Senna."

"I turn twenty in two months."

"You live under our roof."

"And I've kept every secret I've ever had under that roof because you only see the parts of me you like."

There's a long silence.

My mom folds her arms.

"We'll discuss this later."

"There's nothing else to discuss," I say, even as my hands shake. "Luca's my boyfriend. He stays."

Luca glances at me - not proud, not smug. Just there. Steady. Present.

Exactly what he's always been.

"Come on, boys," my dad mutters. "We're going out for dinner."

Bear and Auggie look torn - Auggie clutches Luca's sleeve.

"Is stair boy gonna be okay?"

"He'll be fine," I whisper, squeezing his hand.

They follow, slowly.

The front door shuts.

And for the first time in weeks, I exhale.

Luca brushes my hand.

"You okay?"

"Not even a little."

"Want me to burn more pancakes?"

I laugh. Barely.

But it's real.

And I say the truest thing I know:

"Please don't leave."

"You couldn't make me if you tried."