Raen's departure hit me harder than I expected. I tried to hide it, staying at the table with Amina and Patrick, nodding along to conversation. But my mind kept drifting — half to the investigation, half to the fact that I'd wanted him to stay.

  Lizzie's best friend. A hidden vitalist. It should have been the only thing consuming my thoughts. Instead, I kept replaying the way Raen had looked at me across the table earlier, firelight catching in his eyes.

  "Alice? Can you help me with tea?" Amina's voice broke through. "Lilly's nodded off."

  I glanced over. Lilly had curled up on the couch, hugging a cushion, completely out. That wasn't like her — she could usually drink all night. Though lately she'd been seeing someone she refused to talk about. Probably running on no sleep.

  "Of course."

  We gathered dishes and headed inside. Patrick was corralling the girls, trying to get them into warmer clothes as the evening cooled.

  The kitchen was warm, cozy. Children's arcanegraphs on every wall, little animal figurines on shelves, cheerful curtains. Everything about this house felt lived-in, loved.

  "I'm glad you came today," Amina said, filling the kettle. She glanced at me sideways. "Raen doesn't usually bring people here. Not even colleagues."

  I focused very intently on stacking plates. "It was a spontaneous invitation."

  "Maybe." Amina smiled faintly. "But my brother doesn't do spontaneous. Not like this." She paused, choosing her words carefully. "I know what happened with your father. I know Raen carried that guilt for eight years. And I know he'd never forgive himself if he couldn't at least try to make things right."

  My hands stilled on the dishes.

  "He had no choice back then, you know," she continued quietly. "I needed him. My health depended on him staying in the Enclave, having access to the best medical care. If he'd been fired for refusing to close that case..." She shook her head. "He chose to save me. And he's never forgiven himself for it."

  The kettle began to whistle softly. Amina turned down the heat.

  "I'm not asking you to absolve him of anything," she said. "That's between you two. But there's trying to make amends for an impossible choice, and then there's... well. Showing up at someone's door on a Saturday morning, insisting they come spend time with your family. That's different."

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  Heat crept up my neck. "He was just trying to help. I've been suspended, and —"

  "Alice." Amina's tone was gentle but firm. "I'm his sister. I can read him. And whatever you think this is, I'd suggest you pay attention to what he's actually doing, not just what he's saying."

  The words settled over me like a weight. Or maybe like the lifting of one.

  I thought about the past weeks. Raen picking me up for work that first morning, surprising me. The way he'd apologized, not with excuses but with honesty. How he'd come to get me from Goldspire when I'd been reckless and stupid, how he'd been frustrated but still cared. The concern in his voice when he'd told me I was suspended. His showing up at my door today, inviting me here, wanting me to be part of this warm, loving circle.

  All this time I'd been telling myself I was still angry. That I couldn't trust him. That he'd failed my father and therefore failed me.

  But that wasn't true anymore, was it?

  Somewhere along the way — maybe during that first real conversation, or when he'd held my gaze across the interrogation room, or this afternoon when he'd looked at me like I was the only person in the world who mattered — somewhere, I'd stopped seeing him as the man who'd disappointed me.

  And started seeing him as just... Raen.

  Complicated, thoughtful, protective Raen, who took his work seriously and looked at me with those warm eyes that made me forget why I'd ever wanted to keep my distance.

  "I think," I said slowly, "I've been using my anger as an excuse."

  Amina waited, letting me work through it.

  "It was easier to stay angry. Safer." I finally met her eyes. "Because if I let go of being angry, then I have to admit that —"

  I stopped. Couldn't quite say it out loud yet.

  Amina's smile was gentle, understanding. "That you have feelings for him?"

  My cheeks heated. I looked away, but nodded.

  "For what it's worth," she said, "I think you'd be good for each other. He needs someone who won't let him hide behind his work and his guilt. And you..." She studied me thoughtfully. "You need someone who sees past your walls to the person underneath. Someone who'll stick around even when you push them away."

  "I've been awful to him," I admitted quietly. "Cold. Distant. Even after he tried to help me."

  "So stop being awful." Amina said it so matter-of-factly that I almost laughed. "He'll be back tomorrow to drive you home. Talk to him. Or don't talk — just stop holding him at arm's length. See what happens."

  The kettle whistled. She turned to pour water over tea leaves, and I stood there, letting the realization fully sink in.

  I had feelings for Raen Thorne. Real, complicated, terrifying feelings.

  And maybe — just maybe — it was time to stop fighting them.

  We carried the tea outside. Lilly had woken up, looking rumpled and confused. Patrick was showing the girls how to identify constellations. The night air was cool and sweet, full of cricket song.

  I settled back into my seat and looked up at the stars, feeling lighter than I had in weeks.

  Tomorrow, Raen would come back. Tomorrow, I'd figure out what to say to him.

  Tonight, I just let myself sit with this new truth: I'd forgiven him. More than that — I wanted him.

  Whatever came next... I'd be ready for it.