I sit in the back corner of the common roomI stay in my usual corner, hood up, arms crossed, boots kicked onto the table like I own the place.
At night, the old school building always feels too damn big. The walls echo. Shadows stretch too far. Every hallway looks like it leads somewhere you don't want to go. They patched the place up enough to live in, but it still carries something hollow in it… like it remembers what it used to be.
Or maybe it's just me.
The couch dips beside me, and I don't even have to look to know it's Mudd. He moves like that, quiet, like he's always been there and you just didn't notice until now. Out of everyone in this place, he's the only one I can actually talk to. The only one who doesn't feel like he's waiting for me to screw up. He studies me for a second, then says it plain.
"You look pissed."
"I am pissed."
He nods once, like I just confirmed the weather. "Figured."
Upstairs, footsteps echo across the ceiling, heavy, careful, uneven. Bear's stride. Blaze's lighter one. Ghost's quieter steps, like he's trying not to make a sound at all. They're putting her to bed.
Sunny.
They carried her up there like she was made of glass, Ghost especially. I saw it. The way he held her. The way he leaned in and whispered something to her like she was the only person in the room.
What the hell was that?
Ghost barely talks. Not to anyone. Not even to me half the time. But the second she showed up, he was… different. Softer. Closer. Like she mattered more than anything else in that moment. I shift in my seat, jaw tightening.
"Ghost's already wrapped around her finger," I mutter.
Mudd's eyebrow lifts slightly. "Fast."
There's something in his tone, light, almost amused, but it lands wrong anyway.
"Funny how quick people get attached when they think a kid needs saving," he adds.
I grunt, staring straight ahead. He always does that. Says things that sound simple, but they stick. Get under your skin before you even realize it. The footsteps upstairs fade, then shift again, coming back down.
They're done.
Blaze appears first, rubbing the back of his neck like he's trying to shake something off. Ghost follows behind him, eyes down, like he's replaying every second he just spent in that room. Then Bear steps into view.
My father.
He scans the room out of habit, jaw tight, shoulders still locked like he's ready for a fight that hasn't come yet. Protective energy rolls off him like heat.
For her.
Everyone else filters in behind them, talking low, like they just tucked in something precious. Something important. I clench my jaw harder. They gave her Rook's old room.
A full setup. Private bathroom. Walk-in closet. Space.
More than I had at twelve. Hell, more than I have now. I had a room once. A real one. Before everything went to shit. Before the fire. Before we ended up here in this patched-together version of a home. Now I've got something that feels more like a college dorm.
But her?
She gets a damn suite. Mudd notices where I'm looking. Of course he does.
"Looks like they're settling in up there," he says casually. "That's a lot of effort for someone they just met."
I scoff under my breath. "You're telling me."
He leans back slightly, like he's thinking it through.
"She didn't earn it," he says after a moment. "Not the room. Not the attention. Not Ghost orbiting her like she's the center of the universe."
Something in my chest tightens because yeah.
Exactly.
"And Bear…" Mudd continues, his voice dropping just enough that it feels like it's meant only for me, "I've never seen him drop everything for someone that fast."
He pauses.
"Not even you."
That one hits, hard. I swallow, but it doesn't loosen the pressure building in my chest. Bear walks past without even glancing our way, already talking to Tank about shifting schedules, setting watches, making adjustments.
All for her. Everything… for her.
Sunny.
The name sits wrong in my head. Mom named her. Not Bear. Not us. And now suddenly she exists, and everything shifts around her like she's always been here. Like she matters more. Mudd stretches an arm across the back of the couch, relaxed.
"You okay?" he asks.
I open my mouth to lie. Then close it again. Because what's the point? Everyone else is acting like she fell straight out of heaven, and Mudd's the only one saying what I'm thinking, that she's not some miracle. She's a problem.
"I just don't get why she matters this much," I mutter.
Mudd hums softly, like he's considering it.
"Maybe she doesn't," he says. "Maybe they just want her to."
His tone is easy, too easy.
"You earned your place here," he goes on. "You grew up in this life. You know how things work. You know the rules." He glances at me. "She doesn't."
I don't respond, but I feel it, every word.
"And yet…" he adds, almost thoughtfully, "look how fast they forgot that."
Heat creeps up my neck, anger, shame, something I don't want to name. Bear laughs quietly at something Blaze says, clapping him on the shoulder, already planning, already shifting everything to make space for her.
Ghost lingers behind them, glancing up the stairs like he can still hear her breathing. Like he needs to make sure she's still there. None of them look over here.
Not once.
Mudd pushes himself to his feet, stretching.
"Come on," he says. "Meeting in fifteen."
He pauses, then adds, almost like an afterthought—
"Guess we all answer to a twelve-year-old now."
There's no bite in his voice, no anger. Just a quiet observation, but it lands anyway. Right where it hurts.
Because for the first time, the thought really sinks in...This girl might take everything I fought for.
And if she does…
I don't know what that makes me, or what I'm supposed to do about it.