Total pages in book: 108
Estimated words: 102754 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 514(@200wpm)___ 411(@250wpm)___ 343(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102754 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 514(@200wpm)___ 411(@250wpm)___ 343(@300wpm)
I glanced toward him. She was right—his stance, the way he kept checking over his shoulder, gave away how alert and tense he was.
I frowned. “Roque isn’t either.”
We shared a look, both of us wondering the same thing. What the hell was going on? And why did it feel like they were waiting for something?
Just as Tabby and I exchanged a look, Heidi came through the back door carrying what could only be described as the centerpiece of the entire day.
The cake.
And just like that, every kid within a five-mile radius stopped what they were doing, like someone had flipped a sugar-sensing switch in their brains. Even the face-painting table cleared out in seconds.
Kaida, who had been completely limp and snuggled in Roque’s arms, snapped awake like someone had hit a button.
I laughed under my breath. “She’s got a cake radar. It’s uncanny.”
Roque chuckled as she lifted her head and blinked around, immediately perking up at the sight of the four-tiered masterpiece Heidi was balancing with the focus of a brain surgeon.
It was stunning—deep red and black layered in sleek tiers, with curled dark chocolate edges that looked like racing stripes. White chocolate was artfully drizzled down each side, glossy and smooth. It almost looked too good to eat.
Kairo’s eyes were wide as saucers, his mouth slightly open in awe.
He’d told me his favorite color was red and his favorite flavor was chocolate—obviously—so I’d gotten Heidi to make a cake that’d blow his mind. Inside, the cake was a red velvet sponge dyed just enough to get that rich color without staining teeth, layered with silky chocolate frosting. Heidi had outdone herself again.
Candles dotted the outer edges of the tiers—way too many for a three-year-old, but that wasn’t the point. The point was the giant red and white candle shaped like the number 3 that sat proudly on the top, surrounded by three fountain candles ready to turn the entire scene into a mini fireworks show.
The kids gathered in a loose semi-circle, chanting Kairo’s name like he was some tiny celebrity about to perform.
Heidi nodded at me, and I lit the candles one by one, then finally the fountains. They hissed to life, golden sparks shooting up with a soft crackle, and Kairo grinned so big I thought his face might split in two.
“Make a wish, birthday boy,” I said, kneeling beside him.
He nodded solemnly, took a deep breath, and just as he leaned in to blow—
BANG!
It wasn’t huge, but it was loud enough to send every adult's instincts into high gear. Roque immediately twisted, shielding Kaida with his body while I shielded Kairo with mine, and DB stepped in front of two toddlers by the coloring table. Judd and Keir both went into a low crouch, hands subtly brushing their waists, where I knew they kept their weapons holstered even off-duty.
For a beat, no one moved.
Then we all turned toward the source of the noise—just in time to see a cluster of balloons drifting upward. Some had popped and shredded, but the rest were still tugging free.
Roque stood slowly, releasing a breath, and offered a sheepish half-grin to the crowd. “Balloon casualties.”
A ripple of laughter followed, nervous at first, then easing as the tension melted.
Kairo, unfazed, blew out the candles with one long breath, fists clenched in triumph.
The moment passed, but it left a buzz in my chest.
Everything was still good. Everything was okay. But I couldn’t help thinking—it only took one bang to turn a perfect day into something else entirely.
And the way Roque kept scanning the trees told me I wasn’t the only one who felt that.
Roque
By the time the last car pulled away and the final balloon was deflated, I felt like I’d run a marathon—but in the best way possible.
The party had been a success—a real one.
I’d been wired tight all day, waiting for something to go sideways. After everything we’d dealt with—the threats, the close calls, the broken glass, and the daycare scare—I couldn’t stop scanning the edges of the yard, watching shadows, and tracking movements. Every laugh from the kids, every bang or cheer, had me twitching just a little, my heart ticking faster than it should.
But in the end, the only real excitement had been that damned bunch of balloons catching in the trees and sounding like a mini firework show. A moment of chaos, sure—but harmless.
And thank God for that.
Kairo had the time of his life. His face was painted, his cheeks were sticky with frosting, and his knees had been scraped from all the racing and rolling in the grass. Kaida had toddled after the older kids like she could keep up, and when she couldn’t, she’d curled up in someone’s lap—usually mine or Sayla’s—and watched with those big, wide eyes like she was soaking in the world.
They were safe and happy, which was all that mattered.