Page 32 of Made for Mayhem

“Yes, well, I’m currently deciding if I need to turn you into Body Snatchers, because what the fuck, Ty?”

I frowned down at my sister, trying to rein in my reaction. Because what the fuck, indeed.

Daisy left the table and went to my couch, sitting next to where June rested her head. With a gentle tap on her shoulder, she urged Junie onto her lap, then began brushing her fingers through her tangled mess of hair. “Should I tell you a story?” she asked.

Junie’s little head bobbed, and she curled up tighter into a ball. “Yeah.”

I leaned back against the counter, letting my sister take over the dishes, but didn’t seem capable of moving. Daisy began a story about a family of bunnies that all had superpowers, each one more outrageous than the next. June didn’t laugh when she was supposed to, but she did offer tidbits to the story when prompted, showing she was listening.

Watching them together made me catalog every similarity between them. Daisy’s hair was a shade lighter than Junie’s, but the waves were the same, soft and wild around their faces. They both had those same freckles dusting their noses, like the sun had marked them as its favorites. The same blue eyes, too—Daisy’s older, Junie’s softer—but capable of wrecking me in the same way.

While Junie felt mine in every way that mattered, it was obvious Daisy claimed a piece of her too.

Fuck.

The water shut off as Emmy finished rinsing the last of the dishes, then bumped the dishwasher closed with her hip. She wiped her hands on a towel and gave me that look—one part sister smug, one part don’t test me. When she jerked her head toward the hallway, I followed her to the front door like an obedient idiot.

“Behave,” she said, voice soft but deadly, like I was her unruly fifteen-year-old son instead of her thirty-seven-year-old brother. “Or else.”

My brows shot up. “Or else, what?”

She crossed her arms, her mouth curving in a way that meant she was about to hit me where it hurt. She nodded toward the living room.

I followed her gaze.

Daisy and Junie were curled up together on my couch, both sound asleep. Daisy’s head had fallen back against the cushion, mouth parted just slightly, one hand resting on Junie’s back like it had always belonged there. Junie’s limbs were thrown over Daisy’s lap, socked toes dangling off the edge of the couch.

The sight slammed into me like a clean hit to the boards.

“You’ll lose that, Ty,” Emmy whispered. “You’ll lose both of them.”

The air left my lungs in one long, uneven exhale.

Emmy rose on tiptoe, kissed my cheek, and smacked the underside of my hat as she pulled away. The damn thing flew off my head and landed a few feet away on the entry rug. “Bye, jerk.”

I huffed out something that might’ve been a laugh if my chest didn’t feel so fucking tight. “Bye, pest.”

When the door shut behind her, the house fell into the kind of quiet I’d always loved out here—soft, steady, mountain-quiet. Only this time, it wasn’t comforting.

It was heavy.

Rowdy lifted his head from where he lay tangled between Junie’s legs, ears twitching, then laid it back down, satisfied nothing required his attention.

I stepped farther into the living room, hat dangling from my hand, eyes locked on the couch.

Even asleep, Junie had one hand fisted in Daisy’s sweatshirt, like she wasn’t letting go. And Daisy… she looked like she wouldn’t let her, either.

It shouldn’t gut me the way it did. But it did.

Because she wasn’t just Violet’s sister.

She was the one Junie was supposed to grow up with; the only blood family she had left. And if the courts decided that’s what was best for her—if Daisy wanted it—she’d be gone. Junie would leave this house. This life. Me.

The fear that had been simmering all day surged through my chest.

Junie fit with me like a puzzle piece I’d never realized was missing, and Daisy… shit, once upon a time, I thought maybe she did too.

Those few hours spent with her three years ago had lived rent-free in my mind since, always wondering if I’d made a mistake not chasing her up the elevator. But now, here she was, once again delivered to me, as if fate was screaming at me for messing up the first time.