LOGINMia's POVThe restaurant was warm and loud and smelled like French fries.Alexander had ketchup on his chin. On his shirt. Somehow on his forehead. Ethan was methodically finishing his chicken nuggets in a precise pattern—largest to smallest. Madison had eaten half a grilled cheese and declared herself "so full I might explode."They were tired. I could see it in the way Alexander's movements were slowing down, the way Ethan's blinks were getting longer. Madison was already leaning against my arm, her eyes half-closed."Time to go," I said.No protests. That's how I knew they were truly exhausted. Alexander didn't even argue.The walk to the parking lot was slow. Madison's arms were around my neck, her head on my shoulder, her body a warm, heavy weight against my chest. Eleanor was squished between us.Kyle had both boys. One on each arm. I don't know how he managed it—Alexander alone was a solid forty pounds of wrigg
Mia's POV"There was a birthday," I said. "A long time ago."I wasn't looking at Kyle. I was looking at the crowd, at the families passing by, but I wasn't really seeing them."My mom had promised to take me to an amusement park. She'd been planning it for months. But then she got sick—really sick—and she was in the hospital for a long time. The day before my birthday, I went to visit her. I told her I didn't want to go anymore." I paused. "I was lying, of course. I wanted to go so badly. But I didn't want her to feel guilty."The carousel music drifted over from somewhere."The next morning, Richard was home. He was supposed to be in Texas for another week, but there he was. Standing in my doorway. He said, 'Get dressed. We're going on an adventure.'""He took me to the park. We did everything. Every ride, every game. There was this one roller coaster—the big one, the one I'd been dreaming about—but I was too short. Just by a little." I held up my fingers, showing the gap. "Half an i
Mia's POVThe music started.It was an old song. Something from—I don't know. Another century. The kind of melody that lives in the collective unconscious, that everyone knows without knowing how they know it. Notes that your grandmother hummed, that her grandmother hummed before her. Music that existed before recording, before radio, before any of us were born. It simply was, the way sunlight was, the way rain was.The horses began to rise and fall in their gentle, eternal rhythm.Up. Down. Up. Down. Like breathing. Like the tide.The afternoon light slanted through the carousel's canopy, catching the gold leaf on the horses' bridles, the tiny mirrors embedded in the central column. Everything glittered. Everything spun. The world outside became a smear of color. It's green trees, blue sky, the bright dots of other visitors, all of it bleeding together into something impressionistic.I could smell it. That particular carousel smell. Machine oil and old wood and something sweeter unde
Mia's POVKyle found a spot in the far corner. The very far corner. Where the Escalade could sprawl across two spaces without blocking anyone."This is humiliating," he said."This is consequences."He cut the engine."Ready?" Kyle asked.I looked at him. At the athletic jacket and the messy hair and the way the morning light caught the silver at his temples. He looked nervous. Actually nervous. Kyle Branson, who had negotiated billion-dollar deals without blinking, was nervous about taking his children to an amusement park."Ready," I said.The gates were enormous.Alexander was vibrating.There's no other word for it. His entire body had become a tuning fork struck by pure excitement, humming at a frequency that threatened to shatter nearby glass. He was bouncing on his toes, his hand gripping Kyle's jacket, his voice a continuous stream of observation and demand."Roller coaster,, Daddy, do you SEE it—""I see it.""Can we go on it? Can we go on it RIGHT NOW? Is that the first thin
Mia's POV"It's an SUV.""An armored SUV.""Reinforced.""There's a difference?"He didn't answer. Just opened the back door and helped the children in one by one, Madison last, lifted into her car seat like she was made of something precious and breakable.I shook my head. "Kyle. You really don't do dramatic well. Just like you don't do jazz."Nothing. Not even a twitch.He slid into the driver's seat and started the engine—barely a whisper, because even the car knew its place around Kyle Branson.Then he tapped the screen.Baby Shark.I blinked.Baby Shark. In an armored vehicle. With bulletproof glass and military-grade engineering and probably a secret compartment for emergency caviar.I had no words for this aesthetic commitment. None.The children, however, had plenty.Tank plus favorite song—it was like they'd brewed their coffee with Red Bull and chased it with a shot of pure chaos. Alexander was already straining against his car seat straps, the only thing between him and ful
Mia's POV"DADDY'S HERE!" Alexander's voice explodes through the house like a small bomb. His feet thunder down the stairs—I've told him a thousand times not to run on the stairs, a thousand times—and Ethan follows at a more measured pace, though I can see he's fighting the urge to run too.Madison stands at the top of the staircase. Watching. Her pink elephant clutched against her chest."Come on, sweetheart." I hold out my hand. "Let's go see Daddy."She takes my hand. Her fingers are cold.We walk down together, slow, her pace. By the time we reach the bottom, Alexander has already flung the door open and launched himself at Kyle like a heat-seeking missile."DADDY! DADDY! DADDY! We're going to the AMUSEMENT PARK! There are RIDES! And COTTON CANDY! And—"I round the corner.And stop.Kyle is standing in my doorway with Alexander wrapped around his legs like a barnacle. But that's not what makes me stop.He's wearing—I blink.He's wearing a dark blue athletic jacket. A light gray t







