Page 129 of Wistful Whispers

I smile without thinking. “Stevie?”

“Hi, Shaymie.” Stevie stops at the foot of the porch.

“It’s good to see you.” I open the front door. “Come in—it’s freezing.”

She follows Marcella and I into the warmth.

It all happens in a blur.

We’re halfway inside, coats halfway off, when Padraig looks up from the kitchen doorway—and freezes.

Everyone else keeps talking.

He doesn’t move.

Not one step.

Stevie pauses near the entry, suddenly still. Like she feels what’s coming before anyone else notices.

Padraig’s voice cuts through the noise, loud and sharp. “You shouldn’t be here.”

The room stops breathing.

Connor glances between them. Liam’s brows go up.

Marcella straightens beside me. “What—?”

“I don’t know.” I shake my head.

Stevie doesn’t flinch. She meets his eyes and says, steadily, “I know.”

The air fractures with something unfinished.

Everyone watches Stevie. No one says a word.

Padraig’s footsteps vanish down the hallway, but the wreckage stays behind.

Suddenly, we’re not celebrating anything anymore.

A story for another day…