Page 41 of What We Don't Say: Part One

The word is thin, but it is there.

Sloane looks at the ceiling like he's begging someone for strength. Idris’ mouth softens. Garrett gives Miller a nod, professional and pleased, and I press my thumbnail into the side of my finger so I don't do something overwhelming with my joy.

We go downstairs after that. Miller reviews the placement window at the island while Theo sits beside me at the counter,one knee angled toward mine under the overhang. Sloane eats half a lemon bar in one bite and nearly loses a finger when Theo reaches for the plate at the same time. Idris makes tea, then puts a sandwich in front of me because apparently today hasn't excused me from being perceived. Garrett takes one of his green tea cookies from the tin and eats it with a straight face while Sloane watches in horror.

Theo sees the whole thing.

He watches Sloane lean over the island to steal the edge of my sandwich and watches Idris correct him by handing him a full plate of his own. He watches Garrett ask Miller about transport notes while brushing crumbs from his thumb. He watches me nudge the lemon bars closer to him without making a big moment out of it.

Then he takes one.

I pretend not to notice. Everyone else pretends worse.

Miller leaves just before noon, after confirming she’ll return for the next check-in. Theo stands with Garrett at the door while she gives final reminders, and he accepts Garrett’s hand at the back of his shoulder again, a quiet head-Alpha touch that keeps him still when the van starts and pulls away.

The house closes around us after.

No Bellwether clipboard. No outside witness. Just us, with crumbs on the island and dishes in the sink and Theo standing in the foyer like he has forgotten what comes after arrival.

Sloane’s restraint finally cracks enough for him to crouch in front of Theo, bringing himself lower instead of looming. “Can I hug you?”

Theo looks at me first.

I keep my face soft and my hands still. “Your choice.”

Theo looks back at Sloane and nods.

Sloane wraps him up carefully, which is a miracle in itself. His arms go around Theo’s back, broad and warm, and Theodisappears into him for two full breaths before his hands rise and grip Sloane’s shirt. The sound Sloane makes is quiet enough that he might think we miss it.

We don't miss it.

Idris waits until Sloane releases him before asking, “Me?”

Theo’s nod comes quicker this time.

Idris’ hug is different. Less engulfing, more anchored. One hand between Theo’s shoulders, the other at the back of his neck, holding him in place without trapping him there. Theo’s eyes close, and some of the sharpness leaves his scent.

Garrett doesn't ask right away. He gives Theo a second to breathe, then steps close enough for Theo to feel him.

“You know my answer to doors and rooms,” Garrett says. “Same answer for touch. You decide.”

Theo turns toward him.

It takes longer than it did with Sloane and Idris, but eventually he steps into Garrett’s space. Garrett closes one arm around him, firm and steady, his palm broad over Theo’s back. Theo is stiff for the first second. Then Garrett murmurs something I can't hear, and Theo’s shoulders loosen.

My throat gets tight watching it.

Theo pulls back from Garrett and looks directly at me. The fear I’ve been holding beneath my ribs loosens when he crosses the foyer without leaving an empty space between us.

He doesn’t ask. He only looks.

I open my arms.

Theo crosses the foyer and presses into me so fast I rock back a step. Sloane’s hand catches my hip from behind, steadying both of us, and Theo buries his face against my shoulder with a shuddering breath that goes straight through my ribs. I wrap my arms around him and hold on.

“Hi,” I whisper again, uselessly.

His fingers twist in my cardigan. “Hi.”