Four Of A Kind

"They’re not guests, they’re family! Well, Isaiah’s going to be family. Eventually. When you all stop being weird about the rotation thing and just admit that we’re all going to end up sharing him anyway."

The silence that followed this statement was absolute.

Sabrina watched her sisters process Harlow’s words. Vivienne’s eye twitched, a telltale sign of stress that she usually managed to suppress. Cassidy’s fork froze halfway to her mouth, her purple eyes narrowing in a way that promised violence.

Isaiah, to his credit, didn’t run screaming from the room. He just stood there with his shoulders slightly hunched, radiating the energy of a man who had accepted his fate and was waiting to see which direction the guillotine would swing.

"Harlow." Cassidy’s voice was dangerously calm. "What did we say about saying the quiet part out loud?"

"That it makes Vivi’s eye do the thing?"

"And?"

"And that Cass gets stabby when people talk about sharing?"

"And?"

Harlow deflated slightly. "And that we’re supposed to pretend we’re all mature adults who can handle complicated emotional situations without making it weird."

"Exactly."

Sabrina stepped further into the kitchen, pulling Isaiah along by the hand. She wasn’t going to let her sisters’ drama derail the fragile peace of this morning. Not when she’d finally gotten something she wanted. Not when Isaiah was still here, still holding her hand, still looking at her like she was worth the chaos.

"We’re going to eat breakfast," she announced, in a tone that brooked no argument. "And we’re going to be civil. And nobody is going to interrogate Isaiah about what happened last night, because it’s none of your business."

"It’s literally our business," Cassidy muttered. "We’re all dating the same guy."

"Cass."

"Fine. Whatever. I’m just saying."

Isaiah let Sabrina guide him to a seat at the table, settling into the chair beside Vivienne with the air of someone entering hostile territory. Mrs. Tanaka appeared from somewhere with a cup of black coffee, which Isaiah accepted with a gratitude that bordered on religious.

Harlow descended upon them with plates of food. Waffles stacked three high, dripping with maple syrup. Crispy bacon arranged in precise rows. Fresh fruit cut into shapes that were definitely more elaborate than necessary.

"I made the waffles from scratch," Harlow said, hovering nervously. "And I didn’t burn the bacon this time, I promise. Mrs. Tanaka supervised."

Isaiah took a bite of waffle. Chewed. Swallowed.

"These are incredible."

Harlow made a sound like a teakettle reaching boiling point. "Really? You think so? I used the recipe Dad taught me, the one with the vanilla and the cinnamon, but I wasn’t sure if I got the ratios right because the last batch came out kind of weird and Cass said they tasted like disappointment but Cass says that about everything so I didn’t know if she was being mean or honest or both."

"Harlow." Sabrina caught her sister’s eye. "Breathe."

"Right. Breathing. I can do that." Harlow inhaled deeply, held it, exhaled. "Sorry. I’m just nervous. This is the first time all of us have had breakfast together with Isaiah and I want it to go well because last time we all tried to do something together Cass and Vivi got into that fight about the schedule and then Brina disappeared for three hours and I found her in the library having a whole conversation with Dad’s portrait."

The table went quiet again.

Sabrina felt her sisters’ eyes on her. The portrait conversation wasn’t something she’d planned to share. It was a habit she’d developed after Richard died, sitting in his study surrounded by his things and talking to his picture like he could somehow hear her. Processing her thoughts. Seeking guidance from someone who’d never answer.

"I didn’t know you did that," Vivienne said softly.

"There’s a lot you don’t know about me."

It came out harsher than she’d intended. Vivienne’s expression shuttered, the brief flash of vulnerability disappearing behind her usual composed mask.

Isaiah’s hand found Sabrina’s beneath the table. Squeezed once.

The gesture grounded her. Reminded her that she wasn’t alone in this anymore.

"The waffles are really good, Harlow." Sabrina forced her voice into something approaching warmth. "Dad would be proud."

Harlow’s eyes went bright with unshed tears. "You think so?"

"I know so."

The tension in the room shifted. Not gone, exactly, but softened around the edges. Cassidy went back to eating her bacon with aggressive enthusiasm. Vivienne returned her attention to her tablet, though Sabrina noticed she wasn’t actually reading anything on the screen. Harlow settled into the chair across from Isaiah and watched him eat with an intensity that should have been creepy but somehow just came across as earnest.

This was her family. Messy and complicated and held together by shared grief and competing desires and a boy who’d somehow wandered into the middle of their chaos and decided to stay.

Sabrina loved them. All of them, even when they drove her insane.

She just wasn’t sure they could survive what was coming.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket. She checked the screen under the table, shielded from curious eyes.

Mother.

The message was brief. Clinical. Entirely in keeping with Camille Valentine’s communication style.

Heard you had a guest last night. We should talk. My office, Thursday, 3pm. Don’t be late.

Sabrina stared at the words until they blurred. Mrs. Tanaka, of course. The housekeeper had been reporting to Camille for years, feeding her information about her daughters’ movements and visitors. Sabrina had known this. Had even used it to her advantage on occasion, letting certain pieces of information slip knowing they would reach her mother’s ears.

But this was different. This was Isaiah. This was the one thing Sabrina had wanted to keep for herself, at least for a little while, before the inevitable confrontation.

Too late now.

She deleted the message and slipped her phone back into her pocket. Across the table, Isaiah was listening to Harlow explain the intricacies of waffle batter consistency with more patience than the topic deserved. He looked tired still, dark circles under his eyes and a slight slump to his shoulders, but there was something lighter about him too. Something that hadn’t been there before.

Hope, maybe. Or the beginning of it.

Sabrina was going to protect that. Whatever it took. Whatever it cost.

Even if it meant going to war with her own mother.