Page 51 of To The Final End
Because someone has.
Rhett pulls up to the curb. Cuts the engine.
No one moves.
Bree stares at the house through the windshield. Her jaw is tight, but her breathing is even.
“Your grandmother,” I say quietly. “She’d be glad it’s being used again.”
Rhett’s hands tighten on the steering wheel. “Yeah.” His voice is rough. “She would.”
The second car pulls up behind us. Doors open, close. Footsteps on pavement.
Still, none of us move to get out.
The house waits. Patient. Ordinary.
It has no idea what’s coming back to it.
Chapter 13
Bree
The car door opens, and I step out before anyone can tell me to wait.
The house looks exactly the same.
Same faded blue paint—fresh coat, but they matched the color. Same lace curtains in the windows. The lawn is trimmed, the walkway swept, but it’s still the same cracked concrete Jace trips over every time.
Thane and Stellan’s work. Making sure I came back to memory, not ruin.
I stand on the sidewalk, staring.
“It’s unlocked,” Rhett says quietly behind me. “Thane made sure.”
“You want us to go first?” Jace offers. “Sweep for ghosts? I’m very brave, you know. Incredibly brave. Some would say foolishly—”
“Jace.” Wes’s voice is gentle. “Shut up.”
I barely hear them.
The house waits.
I step forward.
No one stops me.
The door swings open easily, and I’m hit with the smell of old wood and lemon soap. And underneath that—them. All of them. It smells like the first night I came here, terrified and shaking in Rhett’s borrowed clothes. It smells like the mornings Jace made pancakes while the others pretended not to hover. It smells like home.
The interior looks exactly right. Furniture where it should be. Light falling the same way through the same windows. No dust, no decay.
The guys file in behind me, footsteps quiet. Even Jace doesn’t speak. They move through the space carefully, like they know this moment isn’t theirs to claim.
I don’t stop in the living room, where Wes caught me trying to leave that first morning. Don’t pause at the kitchen doorway, where Gray told me I wasn’t a burden. Don’t linger at the bottom of the stairs, where I used to hesitate before going up to the room they gave me.
I just walk.
Up the stairs. Down the hall. To the attic.
