"So, where's my room?" Sky asks, arms crossed as she glances between the two men still lingering in the hallway.
"You can sleep in mine," Ace offers with a shrug.
Sky casts him a lazy look. "Oh, you wish," she says flatly, blowing on her bare, neatly trimmed nails.
Ace scoffs. "I was just being polite, you ungrateful witch. It's not like I'm dying to sleep with you. Besides, it's not as if we haven't shared a room before."
Sky's head snaps up, her eyes blazing.
She glares at him like she's about to burn a hole through his skull.
"You absolute fuckhead," Sky spits in Ace's face, her nostrils flaring with anger.
Ace's jaw tightens, eyes darkening. "You bitch—"
"Enough," Rhett cuts in, his voice cold and sharp.
He turns to face them both. "Don't start here."
Sky and Ace break their heated, riveting glares and begrudgingly turn their attention to Rhett. Their faces are flushed and puffed like two stubborn schoolkids caught fighting by a strict mentor.
"I need you both on your best behavior here," Rhett says, casting each of them a firm, warning look.
"We leave early tomorrow. Make sure you're well-rested after the journey," he adds, directing the last part to Sky.
Sky nods once. "Of course."
"Ace, move your things out and give her your room," Rhett says, stepping toward the door where the soft, muffled sound of his wife's voice drifts from inside.
"What?" Ace frowns. "And where exactly am I supposed to sleep?"
"You'll share a room with Jack," Rhett replies flatly, his grip gentle on the doorknob.
"And she gets a whole room to herself?" Ace throws Sky a disgusted look.
Sky arches a brow at him—mocking, amused.
"Come on, Boss—that's not fair," Ace grumbles, clearly wounded in pride more than comfort.
Rhett glances at Ace's disgruntled face. "Get back to duty."
"Yeah, it's your turn to be the watcher, sugarpie," Sky adds, patting his shoulder with a teasing smile.
Ace jerks her hand off and stalks toward the living room, clearly irritated.
"Oh, grow up and act like a man," Sky calls after him, chuckling, her blue eyes glinting with mischief.
She grabs her bags and suitcases piled by Ace's door and strides inside—satisfied with his reaction.
Rhett dips his head and exhales softly, as if shaking off the lingering tension from outside the door, and opens it.
Her murmuring voice falls silent at once.
Neva lies on her side on the bed, her head cradled in one palm, elbow propped against the pillow, while her other arm rests gently across her waist.
She turns to glance at him.
The children, nestled around her, lift their heads to look up at him too.
"Hey," Rhett murmurs, offering a soft, weary smile.
Neva smiles back—faint, quiet—aware of the weariness clinging to his eyes.
Rhean immediately pushes himself up, palms pressed against the bed, his eyes lighting with joy as he sees his father.
"Dada!" he giggles. "Mama was telling us a story about a talking donkey."
"Really?" Rhett smiles, stepping toward them. "That must've been funny."
"I want a talking donkey too, Dada!" Rhean exclaims, eyes gleaming.
"Well I want a talking dog," Isaiah mumbles to himself, still lying on his stomach beside Rhean, his cheeks cupped in his palms, elbows propped on the bed.
"Now where am I supposed to find a talking donkey and a dog?" Rhett chuckles softly, the bed dipping under his weight as he settles beside Neva.
"I want a talking kitten, Mumma," Inaya murmurs, seated by the pillows, her tiny fingers tangled in her mother's curls as she braids a lock of them.
"Ask God, and it will be given to you," Neva replies with a soft smile.
"Then will God make Zoro talk too, Mama?" Rhean asks, inching closer to Neva.
"Of course," Neva whispers, her fingers gently combing through his soft curls.
A wide smile spreads across Rhean's face, lighting it up with joy.
Rhett watches it all with a small smile on his lips, quietly absorbing the moment. He exhales, content—the warmth of this home Neva gifted him lightening his heavy heart with just a breath.
"I want to hear more, Mumma," Isaiah says, his bright doe eyes fixed on her.
"I think that's enough for today, Isaiah," Neva says, propping herself up on her elbows before sitting upright.
"I have work to do," she mumbles, gathering her hair and twisting it into a low, messy bun with a black tie.
"But Mumma—the braids!" Inaya pouts, her small hands already missing the soft strands, the scent of her mother's hair—like their summer garden from a memory where she felt everything was small, safe, and just theirs.
Neva glances down at her, brows knitting as Inaya's vibrant eyes suddenly wither—quiet and rueful.
"You can style my hair tonight," Neva says softly, caressing Inaya's cheek, her thumb gently stroking the warmth of her skin.
"Why don't you guys go play outside? Your friend Adam should be here any minute now," Rhett says to the children.
Rhean nods. "Yes, Adam must be here soon. Let's go, Isaiah."
He looks over at his brother.
Isaiah nods back. "We'll wait for him at the door."
As Rhean starts to climb down from the bed, Rhett gently lifts him and sets him on the floor.
He does the same for Isaiah, setting him gently on the ground.
"Go with your brothers, Inaya," Neva says as the boys sprint out of the room.
Inaya pouts and shakes her head.
"They don't play the games I like."
Neva brushes a few curls from her face, her gaze softening.
"Do you want me to talk to them and make sure they play the games you like?" Rhett asks, a gentle smile playing on his lips.
Inaya looks up at him, thoughtful.
"Yes," she murmurs after a pause.
Rhett smiles, then glances at Neva. Their eyes meet—an unspoken tenderness passing between them.
"Alright, come with me," he says, swooping Inaya into his arms.
As he rises with her, Neva smooths the back of Inaya's small head, her touch lingering.
---
Neva leans quietly against the bedroom doorframe, arms loosely crossed, watching him from a distance.
She tilts her head slightly as Rhett lowers himself to the children's height in the hallway near the entrance, gently explaining to the boys why they should give Inaya a chance—and play the games she likes too.
But her grumpy sons struggle to be Inaya's playmates, especially when it comes to playing house-house.
Rhett straightens his back and turns to look at Neva with a soft sigh.
She smiles as he steps toward her, the children dashing out the entrance door—Inaya trailing behind, struggling to match her brothers' pace.
"They agreed?" Neva asks, amusement threading through her voice.
Rhett nods. "They did."
As he reaches her, he cups her cheeks and presses a soft, lingering kiss to her lips.
"I wish the twins were yours," Neva whispers as he pulls away, her face still cradled in his warm, calloused hands.
Rhett smiles. "But aren't they?"
Neva offers him a small smile, awe and a tinge of melancholy melting in her eyes.
Rhett takes her hand in his. "You've given me everything I never knew I needed,''
Neva looks at him, silent—her heart aching with the question she can't voice: Does she even deserve this?
"I'm sorry you had to hear that," Rhett says softly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.
"Knight is just—" he clenches his jaw, eyes darkening. "Boneheaded."
Neva looks down, shaking her head with a sigh.
"Jesus said Himself: If the world hates you, remember it hated Me first."
She lifts her gaze, meeting his softened eyes with quiet reverence.
"Yes," Rhett breathes, pulling her into his arms.
"He did," he says, pressing a kiss to her hair.