when he wasn’t at Foxfire.
He knew Elwin had to live somewhere.
He’d just never had a reason to imagine it.
And now… he lived here too—at least temporarily.
Life just kept getting weirder and weirder.
But it was way better than going back to the Shores of Solace and Daddy Dearest, with his constant demands and criticism—especially since his dad would love that Keefe couldn’t snap back with any jokes or insults.
And it was definitely better than letting the Council build him a “facility.”
Plus, Elwin had a steady supply of sedatives, and Keefe did not share Foster’s aversion to drug-induced sleep. He’d actually been planning to beg Elwin to knock him out for a few more days—or weeks, whatever it took—hoping he’d wake up and his senses would be back to normal.
But as soon as the Councillors left, Elwin started scrambling to pack up and get them out of there, so that sleep-away-the-troubles plan would have to wait.
Elwin claimed he was worried that the rest of the Council would try to change the plan once they knew what was happening, so he wanted to get Keefe settled in so they could see how well things were going. But Keefe was pretty sure Elwin was mostly just trying to find some way to fill the excruciating silence that followed Foster’s sudden departure.
She’d raised her home crystal to the light and disappeared as soon as Keefe had agreed to Alina’s condition—without even saying goodbye.
Keefe couldn’t blame her.
He closed his eyes, forcing himself to remember the look on her face—the hurt and betrayal and sadness and anger.
Even if he wasn’t an Empath, he would’ve felt each emotional blow.
And he deserved to, because he knew she was already blaming herself for what happened, and he’d basically told her that he blamed her too.
It wasn’t her fault.
It was his fault—and his mom’s fault.
He’d only told Sophie to stay away because… he was scared.
And embarrassed.
And what if he discovered more horrible changes?
He needed some time and space to figure out how to hide everything that had happened—and he wasn’t going to be able to do that with Miss Worries-Too-Much watching him with a crinkly-forehead stare.
So… he’d told her to go away—and then he’d been too big of a jerk to even tell Fitz he should go after her.
He’d thought about it, so maybe Fitz had been eavesdropping again, and that’s where he went when he left a few minutes later.
But Keefe doubted it.
Fitz could be pretty dense when it came to things like that.
And some tiny, selfish part of Keefe secretly hoped he was right. Because if Fitz couldn’t figure that out on his own, he didn’t deserve Foster.
Then again, neither did he.
Ro heaved a sigh. “I hope you have some cures for ‘mopey boy’ in that little satchel of yours, Doc. Otherwise it’s going to be one big sulkfest around here. And I never thought I’d say this, but it’s even worse without Hunkyhair talking.”
“Sadly, there’s no cure for teenage angst,” Elwin told her, motioning for them to follow him to a glass staircase tucked into the far corner. “Though baked goods can help—and I always have some fresh ripplefluffs in my pantry. Today’s are chocolate peanut butter.”
Keefe shook his head as hard as he could.
His stomach was still recovering from the squelchberries.
“Aaaaaaaand there’s the sparkle-overload,” Ro said when they reached the top of the stairs and found themselves in a hall where the windows were draped with crystal-beaded curtains and the doors were each positioned near fancy chandeliers.
“Told you I was a fan. The bottom level is my quiet space, so I kept things simpler. But up here is where I live.” Elwin pushed open the first door, revealing a room packed with so many stuffed animals, Keefe almost wanted to swan-dive into them and drown in fuzzy snuggles. “This is my Emotional Support Stuffed Animal collection. Mrs. Stinkbottom used to be right there.” He pointed to a small gap near a stuffed griffin and a stuffed ghoul. “But I thought she’d be happier with you. I’ll make sure your dad sends her over here tomorrow, along with some clothes and anything else you want. But if you need a snuggle buddy stand-in for tonight, might I suggest Boo Boo the boobrie?”
He pointed to a black-and-yellow stuffed bird with a mohawk and long, curled eyelashes.
“See, and I think Hunkyhair might prefer cuddling with that,” Ro said, pointing to a shimmering silver moonlark.
Keefe rolled his eyes as Elwin coughed to cover his laugh.
“Come on, seriously! An eye roll is