The power came back at midnight. The lights blinked on, revealing everyone's faces—tired, streaked with marshmallow, oddly peaceful.
Marco, seventeen, played guitar at 11 p.m. and never closed his door. Sofia, fourteen, spoke in whispered phone calls and left cryptic sticky notes on the fridge ( "I see you" —was that for Lia or the leftover lasagna?). Ezra, eight, asked relentless questions: Why don't you call Carlos 'Dad'? Why is your real dad not here? Do you think our ghosts get along? lia's big stepfamily #2
“Mom says when families blend, you bring the ghosts of the old ones with you,” Ezra said. “So I think my mom’s ghost is probably sitting on the couch, and your dad’s ghost is in the garage. They’re probably just staring at each other.” The power came back at midnight
That last one stopped Lia cold. She was brushing her teeth. Ezra stood in the doorway in dinosaur pajamas, earnest as a small philosopher. and never closed his door
Ezra started humming. Then Sofia joined. Then Marco, reluctantly, picked up his guitar in the dark and played something soft. Mira lit a candle. Carlos passed around a bag of marshmallows. Lia sat between Sam and Sofia, not touching, but not apart either.