Page 130 of Beautiful Ruins
“Yes,” I agreed evenly.“That’s generally what happens when the enemies are dead.”
She waved a hand.“Details.”
I studied her for a second longer.Beneath the theatrics, there was something real there.Adrenaline had been our oxygen for years.Waking up without scanning for threats felt unnatural.
Peace required adjustment.
I leaned back in my chair.“You don’t need a war to be useful.”
Tone arched a brow.“You sure about that?Because historically?—”
“Tone.”
She held my gaze for a beat.Then sighed.
“Fine.Maybe I’ll find a hobby,” she decided rather dramatically.“Something safe.Like skydiving.”
Izzy laughed outright.
I shook my head.Back to normal.
If this was normal — breakfast conversations without gunfire, arguments about insulation and hobbies instead of body counts — then maybe we could learn to live in it.
Tone might pretend to miss the chaos.But I saw the relief in her shoulders.We were done fighting for survival.Now we had to learn how to live.And that, apparently, required significantly less drama than my sister preferred.
Tone leaned back in her chair, directing her gaze at Izzy.
“What are you going to do now?”I know that Tone had grown close to Izzy.“Now that you’ve got your life back?”
Izzy hesitated for a second, unsure of herself.
“I’ve been thinking about looking into something more stable.In the arts.”She glanced at me.“Gallery work.Or teaching art.Something steady.”
Something steady.
The idea of her shrinking herself into something small and contained didn’t sit right with me.
“You won’t need to teach unless you want to.”
She frowned slightly.“Raze?—”
“I’ll set up a studio.Wherever you want it.Light.Space.No interruptions.You can paint.Sculpt.Throw clay at walls.I don’t care.”
Tone snorted into her coffee.
“I’m serious.”
Izzy stared at me like I’d grown two heads.
I’d burned down half of Tuscany for her.I could build her a damn studio.
“I don’t want to be living off you.”
“You won’t be.”
“How does that work?”
“You create.I fund.We both win.”
