Epilogue
Two months later
SAWYER
“Diego, breakfast! Dani, coffee! Naomi, briefcase! Let’s go, troops!”
My voice calls out across the kitchen counters, no doubt reaching the other three people in this ginormous penthouse. I turn the stove off, moving the pan from the fire just as fast, and as soon as I turn around, flipping the sleeves to my collared shirt, I see that Diego is the first to hop to it, the thirteen year old’s face frowning beneath a shock of black hair gelled to within an inch of its life.
He sits at the breakfast counter stool, grimacing. “Aw, man. Pancakes again? We’ve had pancakes for breakfast for the last three days straight.”
“Cut me some slack, little man. It’s the only decent breakfast item I can make without burning it,” I say, swiping a few onto his plat
