I didn't move. The poker was heavy in my hand, heavier than it looked, and I gripped it so hard my knuckles ached.
The floorboard creaked again, slower this time, like whoever was out there had shifted their weight to test how much sound the wood would give up. I stood with my back to the counter, watching the window I'd been looking through moments ago and now couldn't bring myself to look at again.
"Flower lady," Finn whispered.
I turned. He was standing in the kitchen doorway, pancake forgotten, eyes huge in a face gone very still. I pressed a finger to my lips and held out my other hand. He crossed the room without a sound, small and quick, and slid his hand into mine. His fingers were sticky with batter. I didn't care.
We moved toward the bedroom together, my hand still wrapped ar
