Soren’s POV
“You can’t just change the rules because you’re losing,” Eira says.
“I’m not losing,” Draven replies, slapping a card face-down on the mattress with entirely too much force. “I’m strategically redefining victory. That so?”
“You’re cheating,” I tell him, leaning back against the wall. “Again.”
“Prove it.”
Eira sighs, but she’s smiling. It’s a real smile, reaching her eyes and crinkling the corners. She’s sitting cross-legged on the blankets, a hand of terrible cards fanned out in front of her. She looks relaxed. The tight, careful line of her shoulders from the past few days is finally gone.
The front door clicks open. Art steps inside, carrying two brown paper grocery bags. He stops in the entryway, taking in the scene. Draven looking entirely too pleased with himself, E
