They chat with ease as he hands off the butter, and she begins cutting small pieces into the bowl on the countertop, my eyes falling to her lips as she pulls them in, concentrating on whatever it is she’s making.

She steps back, grabbing her hair in her hands, lifting and twisting it on top of her head. Untying the bandana from her wrist, she uses it to tie her long locks up.

“Rora!” Zoey barrels into the kitchen.

My gut twists, torn between conflicting emotions, and I’m not sure what to make of it.

My daughter is running for her and while I’m still anxious and unsure, all I’m thinking is goddamn.

Red lipstick on already rosy lips might be my favorite fuckin’ shade of her.

Thick black winged liner and deep, dark brown eyes find and hold mine, strings of loose hair framing her face.

Zoey reaches her then, pulling all her attention.

Victoria’s eyes leave mine and she dips down, now completely hidden from my sight.

Her warm words follow.

“Good morning, Mama,” she says.

My heart beats double-time.

I can’t see her face, can’t see Zoey’s, both blocked behind the bar.

I can see my dad’s, though, and his are zoned in on the hidden moment.

Soft, yet studying.

I move forward.

“Morning, Rora,” Zoey says. “I had a good sleep.”

My lips twitch, my dad’s doing the same.

“Girly, I know.” Victoria teases with ease. “You were snoring like crazy.”

“No!” Zoey laughs, and Victoria’s follows.

My dad sets his coffee cup down, bending at the knees. “Guess what I talked Rora into making, Zo?”

Rora?

“What?” she asks, excited.

“Cinnamon rolls.”

“Yay!”

I walk around the corner right as Zoey throws her arms around Victoria.

As quick as she celebrates, though, Zoey’s face falls, and with it my stomach bottoms out.

Her eyes lower to the floor, Victoria’s shoulders dropping with them.

Zoey reaches out, running her fingers over the image of a half-bitten heart on Victoria’s shirt, mumbling, “One for the tummy...”

“One for the road,” Victoria responds, her happiness quickly fading as Zoey’s has.

The road?

Victoria drops to her ass right there in the middle of our kitchen, and brings herself to my daughter’s level, lifts her hands tight into hers, and looks her straight in the eyes.

Something pulls beneath my ribs making it hard to breathe.

“ZoZo.” Victoria’s smile is full of tenderness, but she can’t quite hide the pain my little girl’s sadness causes her. “Rora isn’t hitting the road today.”

My skin heats, the sorrow in her tone too fucking earnest.

She means leave her, she doesn’t have to leave her today.

Zoey doesn’t want her to leave her.

My eyes find Maddoc’s as he comes around the corner, then slide to Raven’s, Royce now on her other side.

He gives a curt nod, and I think I nod back.

I drop to one knee beside Zoey.

“Hey, Zo,” I say, gently finding her hips, turning her to me. My pulse throbs in my neck. “You wanna help Victoria make cinnamon rolls before we go?”

“Yes! And eat them?” Her little eyes light up, the green within them a bit brighter today. “Can Rora come, too?”

I look to the blonde before us, at the promise in her eyes and understanding in her small smile.

“Yeah, baby girl,” I quickly throw out before my airway closes on me. “She can come.”

As quickly as she lets me go, I’m on my feet, out of the kitchen, and I don’t stop until I’m inside my room, pen in hand with the next blank page in my journal staring at me, but all I can manage to write is a single, solid word.

Mine.

The minute we climbed from the SUV, Zoey wanted to play with the rocks in the stream. The water hardly runs this time of the year, just barely brushing over the tip of the rocks, enough to darken the shade and nothing more.

We made shapes with the palm-size rocks, and spelled Zoey’s name out with the little ones, but that’s as much as we got to do before Zoey was hungry, so we head over to rejoin the others.

Maddoc sees us coming, and stands, moving over to my SUV that’s pulled right into the plush grass. He opens the back, dragging out the ice chest and mini table.

Royce pops up to grab the table, quickly unfolding it while Maddoc digs out some drinks and starts passing them around.

“Uncle D, can I have a juice box?”

“You can have whatever you want, Zo.” He smiles, tossing a juice box in the air and catching it behind his back without taking his eyes off of her.

She giggles, running over to him to grab it, Raven smiling at the two as she does.

“Go on, keep trying, dick,” Royce coughs to disguise his cuss word. “I’m still her favorite.”

Raven laughs, pushing to her feet to check out what Maybell packed for us. “Vee, come eat.”

“I’m not hungry,” she tells her.

Raven pauses, a slow smile spreading across her lips. “You actually ate the cinnamon roll, didn’t you?”

I eye them curiously.

“Duh.” Victoria chuckles, looking out over the little pond ahead of us.

I go back to helping Zoey pick out what she wants, and once we begin to eat, Victoria quietly rises, walking a few feet away.

She sits in a soft spot in the grass, picking at the weeds lining the water.

It doesn’t take long for Zoey to notice, and then she’s on her feet.

She dashes across the blanket, but I quickly lean forward, catching the hem of her top and she falls to her butt, looking back at me, mustard smeared across her cheek, strawberry juice on her chin.

I chuckle, grab a napkin, and quickly wipe her face, but she jumps right back up, ready to take off again.

“Zoey,” I call her.

She spins, smile wide, little hand pushing back her loose curls. “I wanna go play.”

My throat grows thick, eyes snapping to Royce’s when his hand grips my shoulder.

“We’re right here, brother,” he whispers, and Raven grins up at him.

I let my hold on Zoey fall.

She turns and runs for Victoria, her laugh sharp into my soul.

Zoey gives her no warning, but Victoria’s head snaps this way just in time.

Her arms fly out, and Zoey dives for her, knocking them over.

They both roll onto their stomachs, laughing, elbows in the grass as they stare at each other.

They’re talking, I couldn’t guess what about, and I smile when Zoey drops her head to the grass, her hand coming up to cover her mouth like they’ve just shared a funny secret.

I study Victoria’s face and I’m struck.

Once again, it’s not one I’ve seen, not an expression I know her to have.

She’s smiling and laughing and… free.

No hidden pain or callous facade.

It’s as if, with Zoey, she’s someone else.

Herself, maybe?

Suddenly Zoey’s head pops up and she stands, tugging on Victoria’s hand excitedly, but Victoria pushes up, a hand lifting to her throat as torment blankets her features, creating the same with mine.