Page 116 of Joker

It’s the little things. The domestic, stupid, ordinary things.

That’s what’s got me gone.

Lexi comes in not long after, hair wild and face still puffy with sleep, Bunny dragging behind her by one ear.

The second she sees me, she perks up. “Joker.”

I brace for impact. She walks right past her mother and plants herself against my leg like that’s where she was headed all along.

And there it is.

That weird, warm hit straight to the chest that I never asked for and definitely do not know what to do with.

Raven sees it too. I can tell by the way her whole face changes for a second.

Not fear. Not discomfort. Something softer. Something way more dangerous.

“Morning, bug,” I mutter, because at some point I started calling the kid that and now it’s apparently stuck.

Lexi squints up at me. “I’m hungry.”

“Tragic.”

She doesn’t even react to the sarcasm anymore.

That should concern me.

Instead, I reach down, lift her onto one of the barstools, and hand her a piece of toast cut into squares because apparently I’ve now become the kind of man who knows how a three-year-old prefers her breakfast. If anybody had told me that a year ago, I would’ve laughed in their face.

Now?

Now it feels so natural it’s almost embarrassing.

Raven leans against the counter beside me with her coffee, watching the whole thing with an expression I can’t fully read. But I know enough to recognize that she’s feeling something. And because I’m a glutton for punishment, I let myself look right back.

Long enough. Steady enough.

No games. No hedging.

Her breath catches slightly before she looks away first.

The morning settles into something weirdly easy after that.

Lexi eats. Raven drinks her coffee. I make more toast because apparently everybody in this place survives on carbs and poor decision-making before noon.

A couple brothers pass through and give me looks.

I ignore them. Mostly.

By the time breakfast’s over and Raven takes Lexi outside to let her burn off some energy with Amy, Gio, and Casey, I’m already tracking them without thinking.

Where they are. Who’s around them. Which vehicles are in the lot. Who’s coming through the gate. What exits are clear.

I’ve been doing it since I brought them here.

But there’s a difference now.

Before, it was responsibility. Protection. Logan’s favor.