RILEY
He started writing the laws the night after.
Full yellow legal pads, a good pen, the kitchen table covered in pack law texts that Petra had provided digitally and Knox had printed because he thought better on paper. He wrote like he fought — methodically, without flourish, every word doing a specific job.
Grayson sat beside him reading over his shoulder and periodically saying "you can't do that" and Knox would write it anyway without looking up. I listened from the other room and kept a private tally. Knox: fourteen. Grayson: zero.
I brought the twins in around nine when they couldn't sleep. They climbed Knox immediately — Hunter taking the left knee as his established territory, Luna arranging herself across Knox's forearm with the ease of someone selecting a preferred chair —
