Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

June 12th 2081

The kitchen was already warm, steam fogging the corners of the window above the sink. The sizzle of soy-bacon filled the air, sharp and salty, tangled with the softer smell of butter and toast.

Valerie steadied the pan with one hand, her long red hair slipping forward until she pushed it back behind her ear. Beside her, Judy worked the skillet, spatula tapping lightly against the edge as she coaxed the eggs along. A mug of coffee sat within easy reach, steam curling past her lashes when she leaned in.

“Flame’s too high,” she muttered, lowering it with a flick.

Valerie smirked without looking up. “Since when do you doubt my rhythm?”

“Since the smoke alarm tried to sing back up last time,” Judy shot back, her grin tugging wide when Valerie bumped her hip.

At the table, Vicky cupped her mug in both hands, watching the exchange with a quiet smile. Velia hovered just over her shoulder, her glow pulsing soft gold. “The probability of a successful meal increases by thirty-eight percent when they work in tandem,” she offered.

Judy arched her brow. “See, even she gets it.”
Before Valerie could fire back, the thump of feet on the stairs shook the hallway. Sera’s voice came first, half-laughing, half-yelling. A blur of freckled cheeks and wild red hair skidded into the kitchen, socks sliding on tile.

“Is that for me?” she blurted, eyes locking on the plates.

Sandra followed close behind, more measured but smiling all the same, ponytail swaying as she stepped through the doorway.

“Told you they’d make it special,” she teased, nudging Sera’s arm as she passed.

Sera leaned half across the table, sniffing dramatically at the stack of toast. “Best birthday breakfast ever,” she declared.

Valerie laughed, flipping the bacon with a flick of her wrist. “Sit first, Starshine. Sixteen or not, you don’t get to steal from the pan.”

Sera dropped into a chair, freckled arms sprawled across the table like she might stake her claim before the food even landed.
“Mama, I’m starving,” she groaned, though her grin betrayed her.

“Sixteen and dramatic,” Judy muttered, sliding the spatula under the eggs. She tipped the skillet and let them slip onto a plate with practiced ease. “Good thing we made enough to feed an army.”

Sandra eased into the chair beside Sera, setting her hands neatly in her lap. “It smells amazing,” she said softly, brown eyes drifting toward the stove before flicking to Vicky with a small smile.

Her mom reached over, brushing her knuckles lightly against Sandra’s shoulder. “Patience pays off, cariño,” Vicky murmured.

Valerie shifted the pan off the burner, the last strips of soy-bacon crisp at the edges. She laid them across a paper towel, then leaned one hip against the counter, letting the scent hang for a moment like a tease. “Think the birthday girl can wait thirty more seconds?”

Sera drummed her fingers against the table, eyes locked on the bacon. “Nope.”

Velia lowered until her shell hovered inches above the toast plate, her glow pulsing with mischief. “Eat slower, Sera,” she said gently. “You’ll enjoy it more.”

Sera shot her a look, freckles scrunched. “Velia, you’re worse than Mom.”

Valerie grinned at that, sliding the bacon onto a fresh plate. “High praise, Starshine.”

Valerie set the bacon plate down with a little flourish in the center of the table. Judy followed close, sliding in the eggs and toast until the wood was crowded with warmth and steam.

“Birthday girl first,” Valerie said, pulling a chair back with her foot as she leaned to set her own plate down.

Sandra only shook her head, calmer as she lifted a slice of toast instead, but her smile tugged wide when Sera leaned into her shoulder.

“Don’t worry, cariño,” Vicky murmured, passing the butter down. “She’ll still leave crumbs for you.”

Sandra rolled her eyes lightly, though her cheeks warmed. “Crumbs aren’t much of a birthday share, Mom.”

Sera bumped her knee under the table. “I’ll give you bacon too, Moonlight. Promise.”

Velia hovered low over the spread, glow brightening like a lamp over each plate. “Distribution appears equitable,” she observed.

Judy snorted, sinking into the chair beside Valerie. “Equitable? She’s making off with half the eggs.”

Sera’s fork paused midair. “Birthday rules,” she said quickly, cheeks puffing red with her grin.

Valerie reached across, plucking a strip of bacon right off her daughter’s plate with two fingers. “Birthday or not, still my rules.”
“Hey!” Sera squeaked, clutching her fork like a weapon, though laughter already burst through.

The kitchen is filled with the scrape of forks, the clink of mugs, Velia’s steady hum, the smell of bacon and toast thick in the air. A soft breeze slipped in through the cracked window, carrying the scent of pine and lake water, summer already pressing at the edges of the day.

Sera chewed fast, then leaned into Sandra with a grin. “Told you it’d be the best breakfast of the year.”

Sandra wiped her mouth with a napkin, eyes glinting despite her composed tone. “I’d say it was worth not tripping down the stairs like you did.”

“Hey, I was making an entrance,” Sera protested, freckles glowing brighter when her mom snorted.

Valerie shook her head, lifting her coffee. “Nearly took out the bannister, Starshine.”
Judy chuckled, her hand brushing Valerie’s under the table. “She gets that from you.”

Valerie arched a brow, but the smirk stayed. “Better dramatic than boring.”

Across the table, Vicky passed Sandra the jam, her hazel eyes soft but amused. “And you, sweetheart, managed the stairs like a civilized person. You deserve a medal.”
Sandra ducked her head, cheeks coloring, but she still whispered, “I’ll take extra toast instead.”

Velia’s glow brightened as she tilted over the plates. “Toast allocation increased by thirty percent. Medal granted.”

That pulled laughter around the table, Sera snorting mid-bite until Judy slid a napkin at her.

“Sixteen,” Valerie teased, watching her daughter wipe her chin. “Still eats like she’s in a race.”

Sera grinned, unfazed. “That’s ‘cause birthdays go faster if you don’t keep up.”
Sandra nudged her knee under the table again. “That’s why I’m here, someone has to keep you from inhaling the plates.”

Valerie caught that quiet exchange, her smile softening as she leaned back in her chair. The chatter kept rolling forks clinking, Vicky’s low laugh mixing with Judy’s huskier one, Velia humming faint and warm as if she was part of the tune.

Plates clinked as forks scraped, the smell of bacon and toast heavy in the warm air. The window over the sink was cracked just enough for the summer breeze to slip through, carrying lake air that curled around the steam rising from their mugs.

Sera chewed with exaggerated slowness, eyes fixed on Valerie. “You know, if you and Mama cooked every morning, I’d never be late for anything again.”

Valerie raised a brow, tearing a piece of toast in half. “That right? Guess I’ll put you on the dishes every night, then.”

“Hey, no fair,” Sera shot back, waving her fork for emphasis. “It’s my birthday!”

“Sounds fair to me,” Judy cut in, voice husky with amusement as she leaned into Valerie’s shoulder.

At the far end, Vicky tipped her chair back just enough to rest one arm along the table’s edge, coffee warm in her other hand. “Don’t let her fool you. This is the only morning she’d get out of bed before noon without a fight.”

That drew a groan from Sera, though her grin betrayed her. “You’re supposed to be on my side!”

Sandra smothered a laugh into her napkin, shoulders shaking. When she looked up, Vicky’s hand brushed lightly against hers in a quiet squeeze comfort without calling her out.

Velia drifted lower, her glow bright with mischief. “For the record, she was up before sunrise once,” she said, voice even but warm. “To sneak outside with paint.”

Valerie barked a soft laugh, glancing at her daughter. “Starshine, busted.”

Sera dropped her fork with a clatter. “Velia!”
Sandra leaned closer, whispering just loud enough for Sera to hear. “Told you she sees everything.”

The table broke into easy laughter again, the kind that lingered even after the noise faded, leaving behind nothing but the scrape of forks and the smell of summer through the open window.

Valerie leaned back in her chair, coffee warm between her palms. Across the table Sera was still negotiating bacon rights with Sandra, her grin as quick as her fork.

“Hard to believe,” Valerie said softly, half to Judy, half to herself, “that it’s been four years since you first came barging in with that same grin.”

Sera paused mid-chew, eyes flicking to her mom. “What?”

Judy’s smile tilted, husky with memory. “Still remember that little girl rummaging through my van.” Her hand brushed Valerie’s under the table, thumb pressing against the back of her ring. “Feels like yesterday we signed those papers, and suddenly…” she gestured toward the table, the plates, the laughter “…this became normal.”

Sera swallowed quickly, trying for a smirk but her freckles betrayed the flush under them. “Guess I’m still barging in,” she said.

Sandra leaned into her shoulder, whispering, “Some things don’t change.”

Vicky’s laugh rumbled low, warm. “But plenty has. Don’t think I’ve ever seen you sit still long enough to finish a whole plate before.”

Sera wrinkled her nose at that, stuffing the last of her toast in defiantly.

Velia dipped lower, her glow steady and golden. “You used to dart off before meals were done,” she said, voice calm but fond. “Now you sit with us until the last bite.”

Sera groaned, covering her face with her hands. “Velia, you still make it sound like a science project.”

Valerie reached across, tugging her hands down gently. “Nah, Starshine. Just proof you’re ours.”

Judy squeezed her hand under the table, eyes bright, and the kitchen eased into another pocket of laughter and warmth.

The kitchen stayed warm with steam and the faint hiss of the cooling pan, bacon grease crackling softer now that the heat was off.

Mugs clinked as they traded sips, forks scraping slow across plates. A draft carried in through the cracked window, tugging faintly at the curtains and folding pine and lake water into the smell of butter and toast.

Sera peeked over her hands, the fork still clutched like a weapon. “Fine. But if anyone steals from me again, I’m declaring fork law.”
Sandra arched a brow, steady as ever. She shifted her chair just enough that the wood creaked. “Pretty sure fork law doesn’t hold up in this house.”

Valerie smirked into her coffee, tapping the mug against the table in a little beat. “Not when I outrank you, Starshine.”
Sera let out a dramatic groan, hair falling across her freckled face.

Judy leaned back, brushing a strand of her pink-green hair away from her cheek with the back of her wrist. “Don’t tempt her, Val. She’ll come at you like it’s a duel.” Her husky laugh pulled the steam curling up from her mug.

Vicky tipped her chair back a fraction, coffee resting steady in one hand. “I’ll say this much Sandra at least knows how to defend her toast. Sera, you just leave yours sitting there like bait.”

“That’s strategy!” Sera insisted, stabbing her fork in the air, nearly tipping her plate in the process.

Velia drifted closer to the table, glow brightening like a soft lamp. “Counterpoint,” she said evenly, warmth in her tone, “you have never once succeeded in this plan.”

The laughter that followed tangled with the faint hum of Velia’s shell, steady and domestic.

Sandra tore off a corner of her toast, sliding it toward Sera’s plate with quiet precision. “There. Now you don’t have to fight.”

Sera’s freckled grin cracked wide, her heel tapping against the chair leg as she leaned in. “Best girlfriend ever.”

“Bribery,” Valerie muttered, though her smile softened, her gaze lingering on them as she reached for another strip of bacon.

“Solid tactic,” Judy added, brushing her thumb along Valerie’s hand beneath the table.

“Almost as good as yours.”
Valerie arched a brow, smirk tugging. “Mine works every time.”

Velia’s glow pulsed brighter, almost like laughter flickering on the walls. “Data confirms.”

Sera dropped her head to the table with a theatrical thud, the wood thumping under her forehead. “Velia, stop siding with them!”

“Family loyalty,” Velia answered, her glow steady and golden as the laughter spilled back around the table.

Plates scraped clean, the last of the bacon vanishing faster than the toast crumbs. Valerie stacked dishes with one hand, balancing her mug in the other, while Judy slid in beside her to grab the empty skillet. The sink hissed when the tap turned, steam rising into the already warm air.

Sera flopped back in her chair, belly full, grinning as if she’d conquered something. “Best birthday breakfast ever.”

“Careful, Starshine,” Valerie said, leaning over to ruffle her hair before carrying a plate to the sink. “Day’s not over yet. We still haven’t even gotten to the gifts.”

That snapped Sera upright. “Gifts?” Her eyes lit like sparklers, freckles popping against the flush in her cheeks.

Valerie smirked, drying her hands on a towel. “Maybe one or two. Might even be a surprise in there.”

Sera squinted, suspicious. “Is it socks?”

“Could be socks,” Valerie said smoothly, shoulders lifting in mock innocence. “Fancy ones. Purple. With glitter.”

Judy laughed low, shaking her head as she passed another dish into the drying rack.
“Don’t give her ideas. She’ll actually do it.”

At the table, Vicky sipped her coffee down to the last drop before setting the mug aside. “Before gifts, we’re setting up the games. Can’t break tradition.”

Sandra perked up, already leaning in. “Pin the Tie on the Corpo, right?”

“Wouldn’t be a birthday without it,” Vicky said, her hazel eyes glinting with mischief. “I think we’ve still got last year’s cutouts in the drawer.”

Sera burst into laughter, nearly knocking her chair back. “Please tell me you made a new one.”

Sandra’s cheeks warmed, but she nodded, proud. “I did. And it’s better.”

“Oh, Moonlight, you’re the best,” Sera said, bumping her knee under the table with affection.

Valerie tilted her head, smirking at Judy. “See? That’s a gift right there.”

“Speaking of gifts,” Judy cut in, drying her hands and looping an arm around Valerie’s waist as she leaned back against the counter, “I’ve got one too. Tonight, you and I are going out. Dinner at the diner, then a movie.”

Sera’s jaw dropped. “Wait…the actual theater? With seats and popcorn and everything?”

Judy grinned, her voice husky and amused. “Seats, popcorn, the whole thing. Just you and me.”

Sera nearly bounced in her chair, freckles glowing with excitement. “Best. Birthday. Ever.”

Valerie raised her brow, lips curving slowly. “Told you, Starshine. Surprises.”

The kitchen filled with soft clatter as the last dishes found their place, Velia hovering low by the counter, her glow pulsing warm gold.
“Today’s probability of success,” she said gently, “appears very high.”

Sera shot her a grin, already half out of her chair. “High enough for me to win Pin the Tie this year.”

Sandra smiled faintly, voice quiet but sure. “Not a chance.”

The kitchen smelled faintly of soap and coffee by the time the last dish clinked into place. Valerie tossed the towel over her shoulder, watching as Vicky rose from her chair with purpose.

“Alright,” Vicky said, stretching her arms overhead. “Games. Let’s clear some space before someone loses an eye with a fork.”
Sera shot up immediately, nearly knocking her chair into the table. “I call the first turn!”

“Patience, mi cielo,” Judy said with a grin, catching the chair before it tipped. “You can’t pin anything if we don’t set it up first.”

Sandra ducked around her mom, already pulling open the drawer by the living room shelf. The faint squeak of wood on wood gave way to the rustle of paper. She lifted a rolled sheet carefully, tied with twine. “Got it.”
Sera bounced on her toes, craning to see. “You made a new one, right?”

Sandra’s lips curved, shy but proud. She untied the roll and spread it across the table. The “corpo” stared back at them in bold marker lines: an over-serious suit with slicked hair, the kind of face that begged to be mocked.

Valerie let out a low whistle. “That is terrifyingly accurate. You’ve been hanging around Starfall too much, Sandra.”

Vicky chuckled, resting a hand on Sandra’s shoulder. “She’s been watching carefully. Thinks I don’t notice when she doodles at the bar.”

Sandra’s cheeks flushed, but her smile only widened when Sera slung an arm around her. “Moonlight, you’re a genius. We’re gonna demolish this corpo.”

Velia floated closer, glow washing the edge of the paper in gold. “Corpo’s ready,” she said, voice even but playful.

“Not a firing squad, Velia,” Judy said with a smirk, digging through a drawer for tape. “Though… close enough.”

Valerie took the sheet from Sandra and taped it to the far wall, smoothing it flat with the heel of her hand. “Perfect. Corpo in position.”

Sera grabbed the stack of paper ties Sandra had cut out some neat, some wildly colored, all with jagged edges. She fanned them like a deck of cards. “Guess who’s winning this year?”

Valerie arched her brow. “Not you. I’ve got precision.”

“Precision, huh?” Judy teased, tying the blindfold from the junk drawer into a neat knot.
“You couldn’t find the center of a dartboard sober.”

Sera cackled, reaching for the blindfold. “Give me that, Mama. First turn’s mine.”

“Birthday rules,” Valerie admitted, hands up.
“But don’t get too cocky, Starshine. This is a serious family tradition.”

The living room had been cleared just enough chairs angled back, the edge of the rug folded to one side. The fiber of the paper poster crackled softly as Valerie pressed the last corner flat against the wall. The suit-and-tie caricature stared out at them, ridiculous in Sandra’s neat marker strokes.

Sera tugged the blindfold over her eyes, the knot pulling a strand of red hair loose across her freckled cheek. “Alright. Birthday luck, don’t fail me now.”

“Spin first,” Judy said, her voice husky with amusement as she set her coffee mug on the side table. She stepped in, hands on Sera’s shoulders, and turned her gently once, twice, three times. The floorboards creaked under each shuffle.

“Ugh, Mama…now I don’t know which way’s up.”

“That’s the point, mi cielo,” Judy teased, letting her go with a soft pat.

Velia drifted near the wall, glow dimming like a wink. “Careful, Sera,” she said softly. “You’re veering left.”

Sera held the paper tie in front of her like a dagger, one foot tapping out the boards as she inched forward. “Don’t give me hints, Moonlight,” she warned, though Sandra’s quiet laugh already gave her away.

Valerie leaned against the doorframe, arms folded, watching with a grin. “Careful, Starshine you’re headed straight for the bookshelf.”

Sera swerved left too sharply, nearly brushing the corner of the couch. The laughter that followed filled the room, bouncing off the wooden beams overhead. She stuck the tie forward with a dramatic stab, paper crinkling as it landed nowhere near the suit’s collar, instead dangling crooked off the side of the poster’s ear.

“Bullseye!” Sera declared proudly, tugging the blindfold up.

The room erupted. Judy covered her mouth to hide her laugh, Valerie shook her head, and
Vicky clapped her hands once, dry and amused. “Congratulations, Sera. You’ve promoted him to headset duty.”

Sandra reached for her hand, squeezing as she smirked. “Best corpo cosplay yet.”

Velia’s glow brightened with a warm pulse. “Right on the ear,” she announced, steady but amused. “Not accurate, but definitely entertaining.”

Sera bowed with exaggerated flair, freckles glowing. “Told you birthday luck never fails.”

“Alright, my turn.” Valerie pushed off the doorframe, stretching her arms like she was limbering up for a sparring match. “Watch and learn.”

Sera scoffed. “You’re going down, Mom.”
Judy grinned, already untying the blindfold from Sera’s head. “Oh, I’m looking forward to this.” She stepped close to Valerie, looping the cloth snug around her eyes, her voice brushing warm against her ear. “Try not to dent the wall, Guapa.”

“Funny,” Valerie muttered, but the corner of her mouth tugged up.

The room hushed except for the faint groan of the floorboards as Judy spun her, the air catching her long red hair and scattering it over her shoulders. Velia lowered near the wall, glow dimmed to keep from giving away the target.

Valerie stepped forward slowly, hand brushing the edge of the couch. Her paper tie wavered in midair before she stabbed it against the poster with confidence.

The family leaned in.

The tie flapped squarely against the corporate caricature’s nose.

Sera exploded into laughter, nearly falling into Sandra. “Nose job! Mom gave him a nose job!”

Valerie tugged off the blindfold with a mock bow. “Still better than your headset.”

Vicky’s low laugh rolled warm through the room. “Alright, let’s see what Judy’s got.”
Judy sighed, already taking the blindfold from Valerie. “Fine. Just remember, I’m not the one bragging about precision.”

Sera clapped her hands, bouncing in place. “Mama’s gonna nail it!”

Sandra handed her a paper tie, edges still fresh from the scissors. Judy tied the blindfold herself, tucking her hair back with practiced fingers.

Valerie spun her slow, then let her go with a teasing pat on the hip. “Good luck, babe.”

Judy stepped forward in measured strides, bare feet whispering against the wood floor. She paused, cocked her head, and stuck the tie down quickly.

They all leaned in.

The tie hung crooked at the shoulder, nowhere near the collar.

Valerie burst out laughing, nearly doubling over. “Precision, huh?”

Judy ripped off the blindfold, cheeks pink but her grin sly. “I was aiming for irony.”

Even Velia hummed, her glow pulsing bright. “Interpretation accepted.”

Sandra’s turn came next. She hesitated as
Vicky slipped the blindfold over her eyes, clutching the paper tie like it might fold in her hands.

“You’ve got this, cariño,” Vicky murmured, spinning her gently.

Sandra stepped forward carefully, ponytail brushing her back with each stride. She pinned the tie without hesitation straight across the shirtfront, just below the chin.

A chorus of surprise filled the room.
“Moonlight!” Sera squealed, hugging her arm. “You crushed it!”

Sandra ducked her head, cheeks hot, but her smile crept wide all the same.

Finally, all eyes turned to Vicky. She groaned, shaking her head. “Fine. Only because it’s tradition.”

Judy tied the blindfold while Valerie handed her the last tie. Vicky stood steady, posture relaxed even as they spun her once, twice.

Her step forward was deliberate, sure-footed. She pressed the tie flat, then stepped back.
When the cloth came off, her tie sat dead center on the collar.

The room erupted in cheers, Sera throwing her arms in the air. “No way!”

Valerie clapped slowly, her grin wide. “The manager wins again.”

Vicky only shrugged, hazel eyes glinting with humor. “Experience counts.”

Velia circled once, glow steady and bright. “Looks like Vicky takes the win,” she said warmly. “But the real prize is the chaos you’ve all made.”

The laughter carried through the house, mingling with the faint scent of pine through the open window, the paper ties fluttering like flags on the wall.

The ties still flapped against the poster, some barely clinging to the tape. Sandra’s sat nearly perfect under the collar, Vicky’s dead center,
Valerie’s square on the nose. But it was Sera’s lopsided attempt that she jabbed at proudly.

“Style points,” she declared, tapping the paper headset askew on the corpo’s ear. “Tell me that’s not the most artistic shot of the night.”

Valerie snorted, crossing her arms. “Starshine, it looks like he’s about to take customer service calls.”

“Exactly!” Sera crowed, spinning to grin at everyone. “Corpos love their headsets.”

Judy leaned into Valerie, her laugh rasping low. “I hate to admit it, but she’s got a point.”

Vicky shook her head, folding her arms lightly while surveying the wall. “If we’re giving points for comedy, then maybe.”

Sandra’s quiet voice piped up, steady but amused. “I think it’s… memorable.”

Sera bumped her shoulder against Sandra’s. “See? Moonlight gets it. I won!”

Velia hovered near the crooked paper tie, her glow pulsing like laughter. “Alright,” she said evenly, but with warmth, “if we’re judging style, then yes headset queen goes to Sera.”

The room cracked up again, Valerie groaning into her coffee mug. “Unbelievable. Your sister is conspiring with you now.”

Sera stuck her tongue out, freckles lit up with triumph. “Birthday rules, Mom. Headset rules!”

Judy leaned in, brushing her necklace charms between her fingers, her eyes sparkling. “That’s not how the saying goes, mi cielo.”

“Now it is,” Sera shot back, grabbing Sandra’s hand and holding it up like she’d just won a boxing match. “Headset queen of Klamath Falls!”

Sandra laughed quietly, shaking her head but not pulling away, cheeks pink as the paper ties rustled on the wall with the draft.

The living room hummed with it the laughter, Velia’s soft glow reflecting against the wood beams, the smell of pine drifting in from the lake. The kind of chaos that didn’t feel messy at all, just alive.

The noise carried longer than the paper ties deserved Sera crowing her victory, Judy half-wheezing into Valerie’s shoulder, even
Vicky fought a smile as she tried to keep her arms folded in mock disapproval. Velia hovered close, her glow pulsing bright as though she were laughing right along with them, flickering gold against the framed photos on the wall.

Eventually the sound ebbed, breaths settling, only the faint creak of the floorboards and the rustle of the draft tugging at the poster left in its wake.

Valerie straightened from where she’d been leaning, brushing her hair back over her shoulder, that sly smirk never far. “Alright,” she said, voice cutting through the quiet with playful finality, “before Sera tries to petition for a rematch, how about we move on to gifts?”

Sera froze mid-gesture, hand still pointing at her headset masterpiece. “Gifts?”

“Gifts,” Valerie repeated, leaning one shoulder to the wall and sipping the last of her coffee like she hadn’t just dropped the word on purpose. “Birthday tradition, remember?”

Sandra’s eyes flicked toward her mom, then back to Sera, the corners of her mouth tugging up. Vicky only lifted a brow, settling her mug back down on the table.

Judy slid in beside Valerie, brushing her fingers along the curve of her hand. “You mean the surprise you’ve been hinting at all morning?” Her voice was husky, teasing.

Valerie’s smile sharpened, emerald eyes glinting. “Maybe. Guess the birthday girl will have to wait and see.”

Sera’s freckled face lit like a firework, excitement bubbling over into laughter all over again.

Valerie ducked into the hall, returning with a small stack of wrapped parcels balanced against her hip. She set them down on the coffee table, the crinkle of paper and faint scent of ink rising as the pile settled.

“Start small,” she said, giving Sera’s knee a playful tap before sinking onto the couch beside Judy.

Sera slid onto the rug, cross-legged, Sandra close at her side. Velia hovered just overhead, her glow dimmed to a soft lamp-gold.

The first package was slim, tied neatly with twine. Sera tugged it loose, the paper giving way with a crisp rip. A hardbound book slid free, its cover painted in warm tones inked figures, careful linework catching light.

“From your abuela,” Valerie murmured, watching her daughter’s face light up.

Sera ran her fingers over the cover, freckles standing out as her grin widened. “An illustration book… it’s gorgeous.” She flipped it open, the soft smell of fresh paper mixing with pine drifting through the cracked window.

Sandra leaned closer, eyes catching on the delicate sketches. “Wow…”

Next came a heavier bundle, the paper creasing loud as Sera tore it away. A photo book emerged, glossy pages already worn at the edges, as though it had been thumbed through with love before it ever reached her.

Murals splashed across the spread of bright, sprawling color from cities across the world.
“From your abuelo,” Judy said softly, her hand brushing Valerie’s. “He wanted you to see what other artists left behind, all the way from Bogotá to Berlin.”

Sera’s fingers traced the edge of a painted wall in one photograph, emerald eyes wide. “They’re… incredible.” She pressed the book to her chest, the moment holding still for a beat.

The last package rattled faintly when she picked it up, wrapped more loosely than the others. She tore it open fast, gasping as tubes of acrylic paint tumbled into her lap, followed by brushes, a fresh palette, and a thick pad of sketch paper.

Sera laughed, bright and quick. “Oh, no way Panam and Uncle Vince?”

Valerie grinned, sipping her coffee. “Said you’d outgrow the markers sooner or later. Figured it was time.”

Sandra helped gather the brushes before they rolled off the rug, setting them back in Sera’s lap with careful hands. “Now you really don’t have an excuse not to start that mural in the garage.”

Sera beamed, her foot tapping fast against the floorboards. “Best birthday ever. And it’s not even lunchtime yet.”

Velia drifted lower, her glow pulsing brighter. “Looks like every gift hit the mark,” she said softly, pride humming in her tone.

Valerie chuckled, leaning forward to brush her daughter’s hair back from her face. “Starshine, that’s only the beginning.”

Vicky rose from her chair, brushing her palms against her jeans before picking up the bag she’d tucked by the wall. “Alright,” she said, her hazel eyes glinting with humor, “got something for you too.”

She handed over a flat package wrapped in butcher paper, the edges taped clean. Sera tore into it, paper crackling as two record sleeves slid free, glossy and cool against her hands. One showed a painted skyline in bold strokes, the other scattered with bright stars over dark city blocks.

Sera’s grin spread wide, freckles bright. “New records for Echo?”

Vicky folded her arms lightly, a small smile tugging at her lips. “Seemed about time Echo had more than the same three on repeat.”

Sera laughed, clutching the sleeves to her chest. “Echo’s gonna love this. Thanks, Vicky.”

Sandra’s smile tugged quiet but proud as she brushed her fingers over one sleeve. “We’ll play them tonight.”

Sandra shifted where she sat on the rug, a small package already waiting in her lap. The wrapping was plain brown paper, folded neat but not perfect, tied with a piece of string. She offered it out with both hands, her voice steady but low. “For you.”

Sera took it carefully, tearing the string loose.
The paper gave way with a soft rip, revealing a folded sheet and a small box tucked beneath it. She opened the paper first.

Sandra’s handwriting curved across the page, careful strokes that carried her voice even in silence. A poem, written just for her lines about firelight and color spilling across walls, about finding someone who made the world feel wide and steady at the same time.

Sera’s freckles stood out as she read, lips parting around a breath she didn’t quite let go. Her fingers brushed the paper as if to anchor it there.

Sandra’s hands twisted together in her lap, her cheeks warm, but she didn’t look away.

When Sera finally lifted her gaze, her eyes were damp at the edges, her grin unguarded. “Moonlight… it’s beautiful.”

Sandra nodded once, then nudged the little box forward. “There’s more.”

Inside lay a simple bracelet, the silver chain strung with two charms: a star and a crescent moon, both catching Velia’s glow as it rippled across the rug.

Sera slid it onto her wrist right away, the charms clinking soft as she turned it. She leaned in, shoulder pressing to Sandra’s. “I love it, Moonlight.”

Sandra’s blush deepened, but she smiled, her voice quiet but sure. “Happy birthday, Firebird.”

The room eased into silence for a breath not heavy, but warm, like the hush after laughter when no one wants to break what’s settled in.

Sera turned her wrist, watching the star and crescent catch the light. The charms chimed softly against each other, delicate as windchimes on a still morning.

Vicky leaned forward from her chair, elbows resting on her knees, her hazel eyes softer than her usual steady humor. “Sandra put her heart in that,” she said, voice low but certain. “Wear it proud, kiddo.”

Sandra ducked her head at that, cheeks pink, but she didn’t move away from Sera’s shoulder.

Velia hovered closer, her glow brightening until it laid a warm sheen across the bracelet.

She tilted gently, like she was nodding. “It suits you,” she said, her voice even but threaded with affection. “Like it was always meant to be there.”

Sera brushed a thumb across the moon charm, her grin blooming again, wide and unguarded. “Guess I’m keeping it forever then.”

The living room held quiet for a moment, the only sounds the faint rustle of paper on the rug and the steady creak of the old floor as

Valerie shifted on the couch. The scent of pine still drifted through the cracked window, mixing with the faint tang of ink and cardboard from the gifts.

Sera leaned into Sandra, her bracelet chiming softly as she turned it again, still caught up in the silver gleam. The quiet of the room stretched, full but easy, like no one wanted to break it.

Then Judy shifted on the couch, her fingers brushing over the charms at her own necklace before she glanced at Valerie, a slow grin tugging her lips. “You know…” Her voice rasped low, teasing, “we’ve got one more surprise. And I’m still shocked that your mother’s brave enough to even consider it.”

Sera’s head snapped up, eyes wide, freckles popping against the flush already in her cheeks. “Wait…what? What is it?”

Valerie only smirked, sipping from her mug as if she hadn’t heard a thing.

Sera twisted around on the rug, bracelet clinking as she pointed her fork-still-in-hand like an accusation. “Okay, spill. Is it a pet? Did you get me a cat? No…wait, a lizard. A lizard with a little harness.”

Sandra laughed, shaking her head. “They wouldn’t. Too much cleanup.”

“Fine,” Sera shot back, freckles glowing, “then it’s a bike. No, a car! A hovercar.”

Valerie arched a brow over her mug, smirk tugging slowly. “Sure, Starshine. Because we’ve got all that room in the carport already.”

Valerie arched a brow over her mug, smirk tugging slowly. “Sure, Starshine. Because we’ve got all that room in the carport already.”

Sera spread her arms wide, grinning. “Plenty of room if we start stacking them. Racer on the bottom, Seadragon in the middle, Arch on top and my hovercar right at the crown.”

Sandra covered her mouth, laughing softly. “That sounds more like a tower than a garage.”

Sera clapped her hands together, eyes sparking. “Okay, okay, I’ve got it…it’s a mural commission. You secretly called the mayor and convinced him to let me paint the town hall.”

Valerie nearly choked on her coffee, laughter breaking through. “Starshine, the mayor would faint before he let you near those walls.”

Sandra leaned in with a smirk, her voice quiet but sharp enough to land. “Or cry when you paint him with a headset.”

That sent the whole room into laughter again, Sera groaning as she buried her face in her hands. “Ugh, Moonlight, you’re never letting that go, are you?”

Judy tilted forward, chin resting in her hand, her grin sly. “Not after that performance. Legendary.”

Sera peeked out between her fingers, still grinning despite herself. “Fine, not the mayor’s walls… maybe Kerry’s stage then?”

Valerie tapped her mug against the table, pretending to think it over. “Hmm. I don’t know if your godfather’s ready for spray paint all over his monitors.”

Sera gasped, freckles glowing bright. “Wait…it’s not that crazy, is it? You talked to him?”

Judy’s laugh rasped low, teasing. “Keep guessing, mi cielo. You’re circling close, but not quite there.”

Sera was still spinning theories, her hands waving wild in the air as Sandra tried, and failed to keep a straight face.

Valerie set her mug down with a soft clink, leaning forward until her elbows rested on her knees. Her emerald eyes caught Sera’s, smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth. “Alright, Starshine. I’ll give you one hint.”

Sera froze mid-gesture, freckles bright. “Finally!”

Valerie let the silence drag just long enough to watch her squirm, then added, “Hopefully you’ve been keeping up with your studies… because this one’s got a little to do with learning.”

Sera’s jaw dropped. “Learning?!” She looked from her mom to Judy, then back again, hands thrown wide. “You got me a teacher for my birthday?”

Sandra’s laughter broke through, soft but quick, her hand covering her mouth.

Judy leaned back into the couch, shaking her head, her grin crooked. “Not quite that cruel, mi cielo.”

Sera sat up straighter, eyes narrowing like she was trying to crack a code. “Learning… okay, so it’s not a teacher. Is it…ugh…extra tutoring? Please tell me it’s not math.”

Sandra’s lips quirked, brown eyes glinting. “Could be a workshop. Maybe painting techniques, or writing.”

Sera perked up instantly. “Yes! A class at Luz de Mañana! Abuela could teach it, and I’d get free cocoa while I learn.”

Valerie chuckled, shaking her head. “Tempting, but no.”

Sera leaned forward again, eyes shining. “Driver’s lessons! That’s it, isn’t it? You’re finally letting me behind the wheel.”

Sandra snorted softly, covering her smile with her hand. “I’d pay to see that.”

Sera pointed right back at her. “You’re coming along for the ride, Moonlight. Front seat. First day.”

Sandra’s cheeks flushed, but her smirk held. “If I survive.”

Judy’s laugh rasped low, the sound curling warm through the room. “She’s closer than she thinks.” She reached down, threading her fingers through Valerie’s as she tilted a look at her wife. “You want to tell her, Guapa?”

Valerie let the pause stretch, her grin slow and mischievous. She leaned forward, elbows braced on her knees, emerald eyes catching Sera’s. “Starshine… it’s not just lessons. The Racer’s yours now.”

The words dropped like a spark in the room.
Sera froze, freckles stark against the flush climbing her cheeks. “Wait…what? You mean… mine?”

Valerie nodded, her smile tugging wider. “Ours for a while, but yeah. Time you had your own set of keys.”

Judy squeezed her hand, voice husky but warm. “We’ll teach you together. No racing off cliffs, no burning the tires before breakfast. You learn it right, and she’s all yours.”

Sera’s mouth opened, then closed, then opened again. She turned to Sandra with wide eyes, as if needing someone else to confirm it was real.

Sandra’s smile softened as she touched Sera’s wrist. “Looks like birthday luck finally caught up to you.”

Velia dipped low, her glow pulsing a steady gold, warm as the lamplight. “It suits her,” she said gently, the pride in her tone quiet but certain.

Sera let out a whoop so loud it startled the record sleeves still stacked on the table. “I love you, Moms!” She lunged forward, throwing her arms around Valerie first, then Judy, nearly knocking them both back against the couch cushions in a tangle of laughter.

Valerie’s laugh rumbled low as she caught Sera’s shoulders, steadying her from knocking the coffee table sideways. “Easy, Starshine, the Racer’s tough, but I’m not sure the couch is built for crash tests.”

Judy was half-buried under Sera’s hug, her grin crooked as she wrapped an arm tight around her. “Braver than I thought I’d be… but I can’t imagine not giving her this.”

Sera pulled back just far enough to look at them both, eyes wide and wet at the corners, her freckles sharp against her flushed cheeks. “You’re serious. Like… keys-in-my-hand serious?”

Valerie smirked, brushing a strand of red hair from her daughter’s face. “Serious as it gets. Though if you try to take her out before lessons, I’ll chain the wheels to the carport.”

Sandra leaned in closer on the rug, her voice quiet but steady. “She really means it. I wouldn’t test her.”

That broke into laughter again, warm and easy, Sera flopping back against Sandra’s side, hugging the record sleeves to her chest with one arm while holding her wrist up to admire the bracelet charms. “I can’t believe this is real. My own car, my own bracelet, all of it…” she let out another disbelieving laugh, “...and I’m only sixteen for like half a day!”

Vicky, still settled in her chair with her mug, shook her head, her smile understated but genuine. “Looks to me like you’ve already won the day.”

Velia hovered near the ceiling beam, her glow spreading soft gold across the family photos on the wall. “She looks ready for it,” she said gently, as if noting something that had always been true.

The room quieted for a moment around that thought the smell of pine drifting through the open window, the soft tick of the clock on the wall, the warmth of bodies pressed close on the rug and couch.

Valerie reached for Judy’s hand again, their fingers threading, her emerald eyes still fixed on Sera. “Told you,” she murmured, half to her wife, half to the room itself. “Worth the wait.”

Sera’s grin only grew as she leaned back into Sandra’s shoulder, hugging the record sleeves close to her chest. “You know what this means?” Her voice pitched up, alive with mischief. “Dates. Actual dates. Just you and me, Moonlight no moms hanging around in the backseat pretending not to listen.”

Sandra’s cheeks flushed instantly, her brown eyes darting toward Vicky before flicking back to Sera. “Firebird,” she whispered, half-exasperated but unable to hide the shy smile tugging at her mouth, “you don’t have to say that in front of everyone.”

Valerie smirked into her coffee, and Vicky covered her grin with her mug, but Judy burst out laughing, her voice husky with delight.

“Dates, huh? That’s sweet, mi cielo. But don’t forget you’re also going to be driving yourself to work.”

The triumph on Sera’s face crumpled into a groan. “Ugh, Mama! You had to ruin it.”

Sandra muffled her laugh against her hand, shoulders shaking as she leaned into Sera. “Guess freedom comes with fine print.”

Valerie reached over, brushing a hand through Sera’s wild red hair before tucking it behind her ear. Her emerald eyes sparkled with a teasing edge. “We’ll start today. I’ll show you the basics…but we’re not leaving the peninsula. Don’t think Klamath Falls is ready for you to take out any fences yet.”

That drew another round of laughter, Velia’s glow pulsing brighter in a warm rhythm with it, flickering against the record sleeves still stacked on the table. Sera groaned again, but the smile never left her face.

She flopped back against Sandra, the new bracelet sliding down her wrist with the motion. She twisted it once between her fingers like she couldn’t stop checking it was real, the silver star and crescent catching Velia’s glow as it rippled across the ceiling beams.

Sandra smiled faintly, though her cheeks stayed pink. She reached up and steadied the bracelet, her thumb brushing lightly over the moon charm. “It fits you,” she whispered, so soft it was almost just for Sera.

Valerie lounged on the couch in a faded tank top and cutoffs, her long legs stretched out, the ink on her forearm and shoulder bare in the sunlight spilling through the window. She tipped her coffee mug against her knee, emerald eyes glinting with a teasing edge.

“Careful, Starshine. You keep staring at that wrist, you’ll trip over your own feet when we start lessons.”

Sera rolled her eyes, lifting her arm so the charms dangled and caught the light. “Then at least I’ll look good doing it.”

Judy leaned into Valerie’s side, her own denim shorts showing ink where the hem brushed her thigh. Her husky laugh spilled warm as her fingers toyed with the lotus-and-rose charms at her necklace. “She’s not wrong,” she said, her gaze softening as it landed on Sera. “But don’t think that bracelet gets you out of chores.”

That drew a groan from Sera, echoed by Sandra’s quiet laugh.

Across the room, Vicky leaned against the arm of her chair, her dark hair loose over a worn T-shirt, arms folded as always. Her hazel eyes moved from Sandra to Sera with a gentleness tucked beneath her calm.

“Bracelet, records, paints, the Racer,” she said, voice steady. “Not bad for one morning.”

Velia drifted closer, her glow pulsing in rhythm with the quiet beat of the house, the tick of the clock, the hum of the fridge, the faint whisper of pine drifting through the cracked window. She lingered above the photo wall, casting a golden sheen across Valerie and Judy’s wedding picture, then tilted toward Sera. “Feels like it belongs,” she said softly.

The living room held still around that, warm and close, until the restless energy started building again in Sera’s legs. She sat forward fast, nearly knocking the photo book off her lap. “Okay, I can’t sit here anymore. I need to see her.”

Valerie arched her brow. “Her?”

“The Racer!” Sera shot back, scrambling to her feet. She darted toward the hall, socks sliding against the wood, and snagged the key ring off the hook by the door in one smooth swipe. The old metal V charm clinked against the keys, still scuffed from years on Valerie’s belt.

She held them up high, grinning so wide her freckles practically glowed. “Guess who’s got the keys now?”

The keys jingled bright in Sera’s hand, the old V charm swinging wildly as she held them aloft.

Sandra shaded her eyes with one hand as though the shine might blind her. “You’re going to knock a lamp over before you even get outside.”

Sera only grinned wider, lowering the keys just enough to wiggle them in Sandra’s direction. “Tell me you don’t want to ride shotgun.”

Sandra tried to keep her voice level, but her blush gave her away. “Maybe,” she admitted, the corner of her mouth tugging.

Valerie leaned back into the couch cushions, tank top slipping against her shoulder as she smirked. “Starshine, you haven’t even put the key in the ignition and you’re already promising seats.”

Judy’s husky laugh rolled out as she nudged
Valerie with her knee. “Just wait…by the end of today, she’ll be mapping out road trips.”

“Damn right I will,” Sera shot back, freckles glowing as she spun the keys once more.

Vicky tipped her head, arms still folded. “Road trips? Let’s start with getting out of the driveway without taking down the mailbox.”

That set the whole room laughing again, Velia’s glow brightening to a golden shimmer across the walls.

Sera hugged the keys close to her chest for a beat, rocking back on her heels. “Okay, okay. Enough jokes. I need to see her now.”

Sera bolted for the door, socks slipping against the wood as she nearly tripped over the rug edge. She caught herself on the frame, laughing breathlessly, the keys clinking loud in her fist.

“Starshine, slow down,” Valerie called after her, though the grin tugging at her mouth betrayed any real scolding. She set her mug down and pushed up from the couch, Judy sliding up at her side, the two of them falling into step as if pulled by the same tether.

Sandra scrambled to gather the wrapping paper off the rug before darting after Sera, bracelet charms clinking against her wrist as she caught up at the hall. Vicky followed last, steady as ever, though her hazel eyes carried that amused warmth only family could draw out.

Velia hummed low, her glow swelling brighter as she hovered ahead, drifting toward the entryway like she was guiding them.

The door swung wide and the air shifted instantly warm and clean, carrying pine, lake water, and the faint hum of cicadas. The porch boards creaked under Sera’s weight as she bounded down the steps, holding the keys aloft like a banner.

The Racer sat in the carport, matte black body gleaming under the dappled sunlight. The scuffed panels and reinforced frame caught the light, every line of it familiar, but now it was hers. Valerie’s old V charm glinted faintly where it hung from the keyring, swaying with Sera’s every breathless bounce.

She stopped at the edge of the gravel, chest heaving, freckles shining as she whispered it under her breath like she still couldn’t believe it. “She’s mine.”

Sandra slipped up beside her, brushing their shoulders together. “Looks like it.”

Valerie’s voice carried from the steps, rich with teasing warmth. “Don’t get too attached yet, Starshine. You’ve still got to learn how to park her without eating half the carport.”

That sent Sera into laughter again, though her eyes never left the Racer.

Sera took one step forward, fingers twitching on the keys like she was ready to sprint the rest of the way.

“Hold it,” Valerie called, her tone sharp enough to freeze her mid-step. She came down off the porch slowly, denim shorts brushing against her thighs, the sunlight catching on the ink that wrapped her shoulder and forearm. Judy walked at her side, arms folded, that crooked grin already tugging at her mouth.

Sera turned back with wide, freckled eyes, trying for innocence. “What? I was just gonna…”

“Gonna nothing,” Judy cut in, her voice husky but amused. “The first lesson is ground rules.”
Sera groaned, tossing her head back, but Sandra’s muffled laugh slipped out behind her, soft as she tried not to grin.

Valerie stopped a few feet from the Racer, her emerald eyes steady. “Rule one no touching the ignition without me or your mama right there. Clear?”

“Yes, Mom,” Sera muttered, rocking on her heels.

“Rule two,” Judy added, leaning into Valerie’s shoulder as she tilted her head. “No friends stuffed in the back until you’ve got more than ‘go’ and ‘stop’ figured out.”

Sera’s jaw dropped. “What? But…Moonlight!” She glanced at Sandra, who only raised her brows with a smirk.

“I don’t mind waiting,” Sandra said gently, though her cheeks were pink.

Sera groaned again, burying her face in her hands. “Worst. Rules. Ever.”

Valerie’s smirk softened into something steadier. She reached out, brushing Sera’s hair back from her freckled face. “Rule three this isn’t Night City. Out here, the Racer isn’t about running away or proving anything. She’s about getting you home safe. Got it?”

That quieted the protests. Sera’s shoulders dropped a little, her fingers tightening on the keys as she nodded. “Got it.”

Velia hovered closer, her glow brightening to a warm halo over the carport. “Those rules sound reasonable,” she said softly, her voice threading into the quiet like an extra presence.

Judy reached over, squeezing Valerie’s hand once. “Good. Because if she so much as scrapes a fence post, it’s you washing dishes for a month.”

That pulled the laughter back, the sound spilling out into the sunlit yard, bouncing off the trees.

Sera’s grin came flooding back the second the laughter died down. She clutched the keys to her chest, freckles blazing in the sunlight. “So… Can I sit in her now? Just sit?”

Valerie exchanged a long look with Judy, then tipped her head toward the Racer with a smirk. “Go on, Starshine. But remember just sitting.”

Sera squeaked out something between a laugh and a gasp, then bolted across the gravel, the V charm jingling loud as she went. She yanked the handle, the door giving its familiar heavy creak, and slid into the driver’s seat like it had been waiting just for her.

The leather was sun-warmed under her palms as she grabbed the wheel with both hands, bracelet glinting bright against the black. She leaned forward, breathing in the faint scent of oil and sunbaked vinyl, her freckles lit with pure joy.

“Oh my god…” she whispered. “She feels different. Like she knows.”

Valerie’s boots crunched across the gravel, steady and slow. She pulled open the passenger door and folded herself in, tank top brushing against the seat as she settled in beside her daughter. One hand rested casually on her knee, the other draping over the window frame.

“Comfortable?” Valerie asked, her emerald eyes watching her closely.

Sera nodded fast, fingers still locked on the wheel. “Yeah…yeah. Feels… perfect.”

Sandra stood just outside, brown eyes wide as she hugged her elbows. “Looks like it fits,” she said softly, her smile tugging small but real.

Judy leaned against the hood, arms crossed, her grin crooked as ever. “Don’t get too comfortable, mi cielo,” she teased. “That seat still bites back if you’re not careful.”

Velia hovered low near the windshield, her glow soft and golden, like a lamp watching over them both. “She looks ready,” she said evenly, but with warmth threaded deep in the tone.

Valerie smirked, nudging her shoulder against Sera’s. “Then let’s see how ready you really are.”

Sera sank deeper into the seat, fingers tightening around the wheel until her knuckles whitened. The cabin smelled faintly of sun-warmed leather and the faint tang of old dust, a scent she’d known for years from the backseat but never from here.

She let out a shaky laugh, bracelet clinking softly against the wheel. “It feels… huge. Like bigger than me.”

Valerie leaned back, her arm resting easy on the door, eyes studying her daughter instead of the road ahead. The sunlight poured through the windshield, catching the ink on her shoulder and the freckles scattered across Sera’s cheek. “That’s how I felt the first time too,” she said gently. “Like the world stretched wider just because I held the wheel.”

Sera’s eyes flicked toward her, wide and shining. “Did you mess up the first time?”

Valerie chuckled low, shaking her head. “Starshine, I nearly backed into my clan leader’s bike. Thought he was gonna skin me alive.”

That pulled a laugh from Sera, quick and nervous, but real.

Sandra shifted her weight just outside the door, hugging her arms tight as she smiled in. “You won’t mess up. Not with her sitting beside you.”

Judy tilted her head against the hood, fingers brushing her necklace charms as her brown eyes softened. “She’s right, mi cielo. You’ve got the best teacher in Oregon.”

Velia’s glow pulsed steady near the dash, painting a faint gold sheen across the windshield. “The Racer has always carried this family,” she said in her calm, even cadence. “Now it’s your turn to guide her.”

Sera’s breath hitched, and for a moment she didn’t speak, just leaned forward until her forehead brushed the wheel, freckles pressed against the sun-warmed leather. Then she lifted her head again, smiling through the tremor in it. “I can’t believe you trust me with her.”

Valerie reached over, her calloused hand covering Sera’s on the wheel. “You earned it.”

Valerie left her hand resting lightly over Sera’s, a breath longer, then eased back, slipping into that steady tone she used when teaching anything that mattered. “Alright, Starshine.

First things first, seat and mirrors. You don’t move an inch until you can see where you’re going.”

Sera blinked, then hurried to sit taller, fumbling for the lever at her side. The seat squeaked as it slid forward, her knees bumping the wheel until she found a spot that felt right. She looked up, cheeks pink, but grinning. “Better?”

“Try the pedals,” Valerie said, nodding at the floor.

Sera pressed down with one foot, the pedal sinking under her sneaker. “Whoa.” She tested the other, lighter this time, her bracelet chiming with the movement.

“Good,” Valerie said, her smirk softening into something close to pride. “Now the mirrors. Rearview first.”

Sera reached up, fingers shaking just a little as she tilted it. Her own freckled reflection flashed back at her, eyes bright, hair falling across her cheek. She tucked it back behind her ear with a quick laugh. “Okay. Got it.”
“Side mirrors too,” Valerie reminded, nodding at each in turn.

Sera adjusted them carefully, her tongue caught between her teeth as she worked. When she finished, she sat back with a breathless grin, hands tightening around the wheel. “Feels… official now.”

Judy leaned in through the open passenger door, her husky laugh curling warm. “Careful, mi cielo. Next thing you know, she’ll have you practicing three-point turns.”

Sandra stayed close at Sera’s shoulder, her brown eyes steady. “You look like you’ve done this a hundred times already.”

Sera’s grin widened, her foot tapping nervously on the floorboard. “I’ve been watching. All those rides in the back? I was paying attention.”

Valerie reached over, brushing her knuckles lightly against Sera’s arm. “Then today’s the start. We’ll keep it slow, just around the peninsula. Enough to get you used to how she feels.”

Sera nodded quickly, breath catching. “Okay. I’m ready.”

Valerie rested her elbow on the window frame, posture easy but her voice carrying a steady edge. “Before you even think about starting her, we go over safety. Non-negotiable.”
Sera sat up straighter, nodding fast.

“Seatbelt first,” Valerie said.

Sera tugged it across her chest, the click sharp in the quiet carport. She patted it like proof.

“Good.” Valerie tipped her chin toward the pedals. “Left is brake, right is gas. You respect them both, Starshine. The Racer’s heavy she doesn’t forgive sloppy feet. You keep her steady, you keep her safe.”

Sera flexed her sneakers against the pedals, nodding again, her bracelet catching a line of sunlight across the wheel.

“Hands on the wheel.” Valerie reached over, guiding Sera’s grip until her thumbs rested just right. “Not a death grip, but not loose either. She listens better when you’re balanced.”

Sera adjusted, breathing shallow, but her grin never slipped.

Judy leaned an arm against the roof, husky voice curling through the open door. “And remember eyes ahead. Not on Sandra, not on your bracelet, not on your mama smirking at you.”

Sera groaned. “Mama!”

Sandra laughed softly, brushing her knuckles against Sera’s shoulder. “I think she’s right, though.”

Valerie smirked but kept her tone steady.
“Focus is what keeps you alive behind a wheel. You pay attention to every sound, every pull in the tires, every shadow on the road. Out here, you don’t get second chances if you drift.”

The weight of her words settled between them, the Racer’s matte black hood gleaming under the sun just outside the carport.

Sera swallowed hard, fingers tightening on the wheel. “I can do that.”

Valerie’s smirk softened into a smile, the kind that lived in her eyes as much as her mouth. “I know you can.”

The carport hung in a still kind of quiet, only the faint tick of the house settling and the hum of cicadas carrying in through the trees. Sunlight streaked across the dash, cutting a warm line over Sera’s freckles as she sat rigid with her hands on the wheel.

Valerie leaned back, watching her daughter with that sly glint that never quite left her emerald eyes. “Funny thing, Starshine,” she said casually, voice low and measured. “All it took to see you this happy was sweet talking your Mama into letting me buy a truck.”

Sera’s shoulders twitched, just enough to betray that she’d heard it, but her eyes stayed locked on the windshield. Her knuckles were pale against the leather, breath caught shallow in her chest.

Judy snorted from where she leaned against the hood, her grin sharp. “You didn’t sweet talk me, Val. You begged.”

Valerie smirked without looking away from Sera. “Semantics.”

She let the silence stretch, studying every flicker of her daughter’s body language the way Sera’s foot hovered just above the brake, her jaw set a little too tight, her bracelet sliding down her wrist as her grip tightened on the wheel. Not once did those bright green eyes stray from the space ahead, not even to bite on the tease.

Valerie’s smile shifted, smaller now, pride threading through. She tapped the dash with two fingers, drawing Sera’s attention without breaking it. “Not bad,” she murmured. “You’re keeping focus where it belongs. That’s half the work already.”

Sera let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding, bracelet clinking softly as her shoulders eased. “Wasn’t gonna let you trick me, Mom.”

Sandra’s quiet laugh drifted in from the doorway. “She almost did.”

Sera turned her head just long enough to flash Sandra a grin before snapping it forward again, cheeks flushed. “Almost.”

Valerie chuckled low, the sound warm and even. “Good. Means you’re learning.”

Valerie shifted in the passenger seat, stretching her legs out and letting her hand drum lightly against her thigh. “One last thing before you even think about turning that key.”
Sera’s fingers tensed on the wheel again. “What now?”

Valerie nodded toward the windshield, her tone steady. “Always check your surroundings. Every time. Doesn’t matter if you’re on a back road, in a crowded lot, or here at home. You look, you listen, you know what’s around you before you breathe on that ignition.”

Sera darted a look at the side mirror, then the rearview, her lips moving in a whisper as she ticked off the steps to herself. “Left, right, behind…”

Valerie’s smirk deepened. “And up front.”
Sera blinked, then finally noticed her mama still propped against the hood, arms folded, grin carved sharp against the sunlight.

“Mama!” she groaned. “You’re in the way.”

Judy’s husky laugh spilled out as she slid off the hood with a casual roll of her shoulders. “Good. You caught me. That’s the lesson.”

She tapped the roof twice before stepping back, lotus-and-rose charms clinking faintly at her chest. “Now I trust you won’t forget.”
Valerie arched a brow, studying her daughter’s posture the way her grip steadied, the nervous bounce in her heel fading as her attention centered again on the space ahead.

“Alright, Starshine,” Valerie said finally, her voice quiet but firm. “You’ve got the checks down. Let’s see how she feels when you wake her up.”

Sera slid her hand down to the keyring, the old V charm clinking against the column. Her fingers hovered, not yet turning, just resting there as if the whole weight of the moment sat in that small piece of metal.

The carport felt too still. Even the cicadas outside seemed to hush, the lake breeze barely stirring the pine boughs.

Sandra leaned in a little closer from outside the doorframe, her arms hugged tight against her chest, brown eyes wide and shining. She didn’t say a word, but the pink still touched her cheeks.

Judy stood a few paces back now, hands on her hips, watching through the windshield.

The sunlight caught the ink on her arms, the lotus-and-rose charms shifting faintly at her chest as she toyed with them out of habit. Her grin tilted slowly, but her eyes were steady, protective.

Vicky lingered on the porch steps, arms folded, gaze calm but attentive, the kind of watchfulness that came from years of managing chaos at Starfall.

Velia hovered above the car, her glow dimmed to a soft gold, reflecting against the Racer’s matte frame like a heartbeat in the shadows.

And Valerie, in the passenger seat, didn’t look at the dash or the road ahead. Her emerald eyes stayed on Sera, reading every nervous twitch, every breath caught shallow in her chest. Her voice softened. “Whenever you’re ready, Starshine.”

Sera’s fingers curled tighter around the key, her bracelet slipping down her wrist with the movement. She blew out a breath, cheeks puffing, then let out a laugh quick, shaky, but bright. “Oh god, what if I stall her before I even get out of the carport?”

Sandra’s hand lifted instinctively, like she wanted to reach for her but stopped at the doorframe. “Then we’ll all pretend it didn’t happen,” she said softly, a smile tugging at her mouth.

That broke the tension just enough for Judy to grin, her voice husky as it carried through the open window. “Don’t worry, mi cielo. The Racer’s survived worse drivers than you.”
Valerie smirked, tapping a finger against her daughter’s arm. “You’ve got this, Starshine. Let her hear you.”

Sera drew in another breath deep this time her freckles lit up by the sun spilling through the windshield. She turned the key.

The engine caught with a low growl, rolling through the frame like a pulse. It wasn’t deafening, not anymore the Racer’s body carried the sound like a living thing, steady and unyielding.

Sera stiffened, both hands gripping the wheel as the vibration climbed up through the pedals, through the seat, into her chest. Her bracelet chimed once against the leather, then went still as she froze in place.

Her mouth parted, breath caught between a laugh and a gasp. “I can feel her,” she whispered, almost afraid to be louder.

Valerie watched her closely, one arm draped easy over the door but her voice low, warm. “That’s how you know she’s awake. You don’t just hear her, you feel her. Always trust that.”

Sera nodded, her freckles lit with a grin that wouldn’t stay contained, her heel bouncing once against the floorboard with nervous energy.

Sandra leaned closer, her brown eyes wide as the hum carried across the carport. “You look like you’re holding lightning,” she murmured.
Judy’s husky laugh curled in from outside, soft but certain. “Feels that way too, for the first time.”

Sera’s fingers tightened again on the wheel, the vibration thrumming steady through her arms, through her chest. Her voice trembled, but it was joy threaded through it. “She’s alive… and she’s mine.”

The sound filled the carport, not loud, but deep like a heartbeat echoing through steel and glass. The vibrations ran steady under Sera’s palms, up through her arms, settling in her chest until it felt like her own pulse was syncing with the engine’s.

She let out a shaky breath, the corners of her mouth tugging up until her whole face was lit with it. “It’s… like she’s breathing,” she said, voice barely above a whisper.

Valerie’s smile softened, the teasing edge gone for once. “That’s how you know you’re connected. She’s listening now.”

Sera didn’t move, didn’t dare. She just sat there with wide emerald eyes, drinking in the steady thrum that wrapped around her ribs and anchored her in place.

Outside the windshield, Judy rested her forearms on the roof, leaning low enough to see her daughter’s face clearly. The charms at her necklace tapped once against the metal, catching the sunlight. “Look at her,” Judy murmured, husky with pride. “Like she’s been waiting for this seat her whole life.”

Sandra pressed her knuckles to her mouth, but it didn’t hide her smile. The hum carried through her too, though softer, more distant. “She looks like she belongs there,” she whispered.

Velia hovered just above the hood, glow flickering warm across the Racer’s matte frame. “She does,” she said simply, her voice even but threaded with something close to wonder.

For a moment, no one moved. The hum filled the quiet, the summer air carrying pine and lake water through the carport. It was just Sera, her bracelet glinting, her hands steady on the wheel, the Racer breathing beneath her touch.

Sera’s fingers flexed around the wheel, the vibration still running steady through her arms. Her throat worked once, then she let out a breath that trembled into a laugh. “I thought I’d be scared,” she admitted, her voice soft but cutting through the hum. “But it doesn’t feel scary. It feels… like she’s already on my side.”

Her eyes flicked toward the windshield, out to where the treeline framed the gravel drive, then back to the dash glowing faint in the sunlight. “Like she knows I belong here.”
Sandra reached in a little closer, her hand brushing Sera’s arm where it rested tense against the wheel. “Maybe she does,” she said gently, her brown eyes steady.

Valerie tipped her head, studying her daughter’s posture the way her shoulders were tight but her grip stayed sure. “That’s a good sign, Starshine,” she said, her voice low, warm. “The day you stop respecting her, that’s when you should be scared. But if she feels like home? That means you’re ready to learn.”

Judy’s husky laugh came soft, curling through the open door. “Listen to your mother, mi cielo. She’s only crashed through, what three fences?”

Valerie shot her a sharp look, but the grin tugging at her mouth gave her away.
Sera snorted, a little too loud, and shook her head, her bracelet sliding down her wrist with the motion. “Okay, maybe that makes me feel better.”

The laughter rolled easy through the carport, but the hum of the Racer never wavered solid, alive, like it was part of the moment with them.

Valerie shifted in her seat, angling toward her daughter, her arm draped loose over the doorframe. “Alright, Starshine. The first motion’s simple. You’re not going anywhere fast, just a crawl.”

Sera nodded quickly, eyes still locked forward, the vibration humming steady through her chest.

“Foot on the brake,” Valerie said, her tone calm but firm.

Sera pressed down, the pedal sinking under her sneaker. The Racer gave a subtle shiver, the engine dipping low before leveling out again.

“Good. Now hand on the shifter,” Valerie continued, watching every twitch of her daughter’s fingers. “Ease her into driving, don’t rush it. Let her know you’re in control.”

Sera’s hand trembled, bracelet sliding down to her knuckles as she wrapped her fingers around the gear. She swallowed hard, then pushed it down, guiding the lever into place. The click was sharp, final.

Sandra pressed closer at the door, breath caught in her throat. Judy tilted her head, eyes narrowing with focus even as her grin lingered. Velia’s glow pulsed once against the hood, soft and steady.

Sera tightened her grip on the wheel, pulse racing to match the thrum of the engine. “Okay,” she whispered. “Now what?”

Valerie’s smirk curved , her emerald eyes never leaving her. “Now you trust her. Ease your foot off the brake just enough to feel her move.”

Sera froze with her foot still pressed firm on the brake, her breath shallow, eyes fixed ahead like the whole world was waiting on her. The Racer hummed under her, alive and ready, but unmoving.

Valerie glanced past the windshield, then leaned back toward her daughter with a smirk tugging at her lips. “Before we ease her out, there’s one more thing. Your mama, Sandra, Velia everyone’s moving to clear. But Vicky’s been too quiet.”

Sera blinked, eyes darting toward the mirrors. “What?”

“Lesson four,” Valerie said, her tone low but even. “Never assume. Cars don’t just run into fences, they run into people when you stop paying attention. So you tell me when you see her.”

Sera flicked her gaze to the rearview, then the side mirror. For a heartbeat, nothing—then a shift, a dark silhouette by the porch rail. She let out a quick breath. “She’s leaning on the post. Left side.”

Valerie’s smile softened, pride sparking in her eyes. “Good. You caught her.” She lifted her chin toward the mirrors. “You check them like that every time before you move. Make it muscle memory.”

Vicky raised her hand from where she stood, the porch steps creaking as she eased down to the gravel. “Don’t mind me. Just making sure I’m not the first thing she runs over,” she called, her tone light, though the warmth in her hazel eyes gave her away.

Judy chuckled low, her necklace charms tapping faintly against the Racer’s hood as she shifted back. “Alright, mi cielo. Looks like the road’s clear.”

Sandra stepped back a few paces too, brushing hair behind her ear, though her brown eyes never left Sera’s face. Velia drifted higher, her glow pulsing slow, gold light washing over the carport like a second sun.

The space cleared, leaving just Sera and Valerie inside, the hum of the engine filling the air, the summer breeze threading pine through the stillness.

Valerie tipped her head toward the wheel, voice steady. “Now it’s just you and her.”

Sera drew in a breath that seemed to reach all the way down to her sneakers. Her hands tightened on the wheel, bracelet sliding loose again, catching the sun as it dangled.

“Slow,” Valerie murmured, her voice a steady anchor. “Ease your foot up. Don’t rush it.”
Sera nodded once, her throat bobbing. She lifted her foot from the brake just a fraction at first.

The Racer answered immediately, a gentle lurch as the heavy frame shifted forward. The vibration changed under her, deeper, alive.

Gravel crunched faintly beneath the tires, the sound sharp in the still carport.
Sera gasped, half a laugh breaking out of her chest. “She’s moving. Oh my god…she’s actually moving.”

Sandra clasped her hands in front of her, brown eyes wide, whispering, “She’s doing it…”

Judy’s grin stretched wide, her husky laugh spilling warm as she stepped aside, keeping pace with the slow roll. “Told you, mi cielo. She listens to you.”

Valerie leaned just slightly closer, her emerald eyes watching every twitch of Sera’s grip. “That’s it, Starshine. Feel her. Let her carry you.”

The Racer crawled forward into the sunlight, the hum wrapping around them all, gravel crackling like applause with every inch.
Sera’s smile broke open, wild and breathless, freckles glowing bright. “I’m driving.”

The Racer crawled forward, gravel popping under the tires until Valerie lifted her hand. “Alright, Starshine. Stop her.”

Sera’s head whipped around. “What? Already?”

“Already,” Valerie said, steady as the hum under their feet.

Sera pressed the brake, a little too quick at first, then steadied herself. The Racer rocked once and settled, the engine still low and alive.

Silence pressed in, thick with heat and motor-vibration. Sera stared straight through the windshield, her hands glued to the wheel, freckles sharp in the sunlight. Then a laugh broke out of her, high and shaky. “I didn’t kill us.”

Valerie smirked, leaning back against the seat, elbow hooked over the window frame. “Not even close. You stopped cleaner than I did my first time.”

Sera’s eyes flicked to her, wide, searching. “You’re serious?”

Valerie’s grin softened into something smaller. “Dead serious.” She nudged her daughter’s arm with two fingers. “You told her when to move, when to stop. She listened. That’s what matters.”

Sera’s shoulders loosened, just a little. She let out another breath, bracelet sliding down until the charms tapped the wheel.

Valerie tipped her chin toward the dash. “Want to feel her again?”

Sera’s grin came quick, too bright to hide. “Yeah. Yeah, I do.”

Valerie nodded at the pedals. “Alright then. Do it again.”

Sera pressed the brake down firmer, knuckles tight on the wheel. She shifted her foot, let it rise slow, and the Racer stirred gravel crunching, frame humming forward.

Her breath hitched, but she held steady. A few feet, maybe less, before Valerie’s voice cut in low. “Now stop her.”

Sera pressed down, smoother this time. The car eased into stillness, rocking back only the slightest bit before settling.

She let out a breath and laughed, quick and almost disbelieving. “Better, right?”

Valerie’s smirk tugged wider, pride flashing in her emerald eyes. “You tell me. Did it feel better?”

Sera nodded fast, grinning so wide her freckles lit up. “Yeah. Way better.”

“Then again,” Valerie said, tipping her chin toward the drive.

The engine kept humming around them, steady as a pulse. Sera adjusted her hands on the wheel, her bracelet sliding down and catching the sun as she started the rhythm all over again.

Valerie watched her daughter’s grip steady, the motions less jerky now, more in rhythm with the Racer’s hum. After the third stop, she gave a small nod, satisfied.

“Alright, Starshine,” she said, her voice low but carrying that spark of challenge. “You’ve proven you can start and stop without throwing me into the dash. Time to let her stretch a little.”

Sera’s head snapped toward her, emerald eyes wide. “Like… down the drive?”

Valerie smirked. “Down the peninsula. Just a crawl. You keep her steady, you’ll feel how she wants to move.”

Sera swallowed, then straightened her shoulders. Her bracelet slid down her wrist as she tightened both hands on the wheel. “Okay. I can do that.”

“Good.” Valerie tipped her chin forward. “Ease off the brake, don't rush her. Let the gravel do the talking.”

Sera lifted her foot, and the Racer responded with that low, sure pull. The tires crunched forward, steady this time, carrying them past the carport and into the dappled sunlight spilling through the trees.

The air shifted through the cracked window, warm with pine and lake water. Sera’s freckles glowed as the wind brushed her cheek. She laughed under her breath, half disbelief, half joy. “I’m really driving.”

Valerie leaned back, letting her arm drape along the door. “Yeah, Starshine. You are.”

The peninsula stretched ahead of them, a gravel path curving gently between the trees.

The Racer moved slowly, but alive, each roll of the tires sinking into Sera’s bones like a secret she’d waited her whole life to share.

The Racer crept forward, steady as a heartbeat, tires pressing gravel into the dirt track that curved between the trees. Sunlight slipped through the branches in broken patches, flickering across the hood in rhythm with the leaves.

Sera leaned forward just slightly, eyes fixed ahead, her grip tight but steady. Her bracelet slid loose with every bump, the charms tapping the wheel in quiet time with the engine’s hum.

Valerie stayed easy in the passenger seat, arm draped over the window frame, watching without crowding her. “Good,” she murmured. “Keep her steady, let her carry you, not the other way around.”

Sera nodded quickly, breath shallow, every muscle wound tight with focus. The Racer rolled slowly, no jolts, no jerks, just a careful crawl that felt, to her, like flying.

The air through the cracked window carried pine and the faint tang of lake water, warm against her freckled skin. She let out a laugh, softer this time, not shaky anymore but sure. “I thought I’d be nervous the whole time,” she whispered. “But it feels… safe.”

Valerie’s smirk curved into something gentler, her emerald eyes catching the light as she watched her daughter. “That’s the point, Starshine. She’s not here to scare you. She’s here to bring you home.”

The Racer kept crawling down the narrow track, sunlight and shadow dancing across the hood, the peninsula unfolding slowly beneath her hands.

The dirt road dipped, sloping gently toward the lake. Pine shadows draped across the gravel, and just ahead the road bent left around a stand of fir.

Valerie’s eyes flicked from the curve back to Sera, noting the way her shoulders tightened, freckles drawn sharp with focus. “Alright, Starshine first real test. Road’s gonna pull you downhill. Don’t fight her. Just keep your touch steady.”

Sera bit her lip, knuckles whitening as the Racer picked up a little more speed than she expected. The wheel wobbled in her hands, a nervous squeak slipping out of her throat. “She’s going faster…”

“You’ve got it,” Valerie cut in, voice calm but firm. “Ease your foot with just enough brake to feel the tires grip. Don’t slam it.”
Sera pressed, shaky at first, but the hum steadied. The Racer slowed into the curve, gravel crunching sharper beneath the tires.

“Now the wheel,” Valerie guided, leaning just slightly in rhythm with the turn. “Turn into it smoothly. Let the drift pull, but you control how far.”

Sera’s breath came quick, shoulders stiff, but she turned the wheel, eyes locked on the road ahead. The tires slid just a breath on loose gravel, then caught, rolling them clean through the bend.

She let out a gasp that broke into a laugh, half relief, half thrill. “I didn’t lose her…”

Valerie’s smirk softened into pride. “You didn’t. Shaky, yeah. But you kept control. That’s driving.”

Sera blew out a breath, her bracelet clinking against the wheel as her grip finally eased. “That was… way harder than it looked.”

“That’s why you practice,” Valerie said, tapping her knee once in rhythm with the engine’s hum. “Every hill, every curve teaches you how she moves. And the more you listen, the less you fight her.”

The Racer straightened out, humming steady again as the trees opened wider, the lake glittering blue just beyond the bend.

Valerie lifted her hand, palm out, the way she had before. “Alright, Starshine bring her to a stop.”

Sera nodded fast, still buzzing, and pressed down on the brake. The Racer slowed, gravel crunching beneath the tires until she settled steady at the side of the track. The hum of the engine stayed low, vibrating through their bones, but the motion stopped.

For a breath, Sera just sat there, hands frozen on the wheel, chest rising quick. Her bracelet slipped down with the stillness, the silver charms tapping softly against the leather.

Valerie leaned back, elbow hooked on the doorframe, studying her daughter’s face. “So,” she asked, voice gentle now. “How’s it feeling?”

Sera laughed, shaky but bright, her emerald eyes wide. “Like my heart’s still halfway back up the hill.” She pressed a hand to her chest, freckles stark against the flush on her cheeks. “But also… like I don’t ever want to get out of this seat.”

Valerie’s smirk tugged slow, the pride plain in her eyes. “That’s driving in a nutshell. Scary and perfect all at once.”

Sera turned toward her, grinning so wide it hurt. “I actually did it. I didn’t spin out. I didn’t crash. I… I kept her straight.”

Valerie reached over, brushing a strand of red hair back from her daughter’s cheek. “You did. And every time you sit in this seat, you’ll get better.”

The Racer idled steady around them, warm air carrying pine and the faint shimmer of lake water through the cracked window. The moment hung there, just the two of them in the hum, breathing it in.

Valerie let the silence linger a moment longer, then tipped her chin toward the road ahead. “Out here, you’ve got space. Room to learn.

The city’s different traffic, tight turns, people cutting you off. But the peninsula? This is the best place to start. Nothing but trees, gravel, and me beside you.”

Sera blew out a breath, still smiling, still flushed. “I like this better than city driving already.”

Valerie’s smirk curved soft. “Everyone does. But if you can learn control here, you’ll be ready when we take her further.” She tapped the dash with her knuckles, the sound sharp against the hum. “Alright, Starshine. Let’s see what happens when you let her breathe a little.”

Sera’s eyes widened, her bracelet sliding loose as she adjusted her grip. “Normal speed?”

“Normal speed,” Valerie confirmed. “You’ve got her. Just stay steady.”

Sera nodded fast, swallowing her nerves. She pressed gently on the gas, and the Racer answered with a deeper growl, rolling forward with more life than before. The gravel spit soft under the tires as the trees began to slip by faster, sunlight flickering across the hood in a rhythm that made her laugh out loud.
“Whoa…she feels so different!”

Valerie braced an arm against the door, watching with sharp eyes but no trace of panic. “That’s her natural pace. Keep your hands loose, don’t fight the wheel. Let her weight guide you.”

Sera’s shoulders stayed tense, but her grin spread wider with every turn of the tires. The peninsula curved ahead, the lake flashing bright through the trees. For the first time, she wasn’t creeping, she was driving.

Valerie’s gaze flicked between the road and her daughter’s face, the pride in her emerald eyes unmistakable. “That’s it, Starshine. Just like that. Trust yourself, trust her.”

The Racer hummed alive beneath them, carrying Sera forward into her first stretch of freedom.

The Racer picked up a steady rhythm, tires crunching against the gravel as the track curved along the tree line. Sera leaned forward, shoulders tight but her grin wide, freckles glowing in the dappled sunlight.

Valerie kept her voice calm, even over the engine’s thrum. “Eyes ahead, hands light. Don’t overthink every bump just let her roll.”

Sera nodded quickly, fingers easing just a little on the wheel. The bracelet slipped down her wrist and caught the light, flashing silver against the black leather. The path bent right, and she guided the car through, a little wobble in her grip but no fight.

The lake shimmered blue through the trees on one side, cicadas buzzing in the summer air. Warm wind slid in through the cracked window, lifting loose strands of Sera’s red hair across her cheek. She laughed into it, bright and unrestrained. “This is insane, it feels like flying, but I’m not even going fast.”

Valerie smirked, settling deeper into her seat. “Speed’s overrated. Control’s what counts.”

The peninsula loop carried them further, opening briefly to a view of the dock before narrowing again into shaded bends. Sera kept her pace steady, a few bumps rattling her but nothing she couldn’t correct. With each turn, the stiffness in her shoulders eased, replaced by a rhythm that matched the Racer’s hum.

Valerie watched her closely, emerald eyes sharp but softening with pride. “Look at you,” she said, low but warm. “First lesson, and you’re already circling the loop.”

By the time they came around toward the carport again, Sera’s cheeks were flushed, her breath quick, but her grin stretched wide as the hood rolled back into the shadow of the house. She pressed the brake, smooth this time, and the Racer came to a clean stop on the gravel.

The engine idled steady. Sera leaned back in the seat, hair sticking to her temple, chest heaving with exhilaration. “I just drove the whole peninsula.”

Valerie chuckled, tipping her head against the rest. “Yeah, Starshine. You did.”

The Racer idled steady, heat rising off the hood in slow waves. Sera leaned back into the seat, arms still wrapped around the wheel like she wasn’t ready to let go. Her freckles stood out sharp against flushed cheeks, her grin stubbornly fixed even as her chest heaved.

Valerie let her sit there, saying nothing for a moment, just listening to the hum and the faint rattle of cicadas outside. Then she tipped her head, voice gentler now. “Catch your breath, Starshine. Let it sink in.”

Sera nodded, blinking fast like she was trying to lock the memory in place. “I can’t believe I just… did all that.”

Valerie smirked, brushing her knuckles against her daughter’s arm. “Believe it. And you did better than most on their first day.”

Sera laughed, a little shaky still, and finally loosened her grip on the wheel. Her bracelet slipped down, the charms catching the dash light as she flexed her fingers out.

Valerie let the pause stretch just long enough for Sera to settle, then shifted in her seat, her emerald eyes sharp again. “Alright. Think you’ve got one more in you?”

Sera turned, wide-eyed but grinning. “What, another lap?”

“Not yet.” Valerie tilted her chin toward the carport waiting just ahead. “Backing her in. A whole different kind of focus.”

Sera’s freckles bunched as she stared at her mom, hands flying off the wheel in protest.
“Back her in? Already? C’mon, Mom can’t I get one more lap first? I was just starting to feel like I had it.”

Valerie leaned back, arm hooked easy over the door, that slow smirk tugging at her mouth.
“Oh, you’ve got the forward part down, Starshine. Anyone can point a car straight and go. The real trick’s knowing how to back her down a drive without kissing a tree.”

Sera groaned, slumping against the seat like the weight of the world had dropped on her shoulders. “That sounds terrifying.”

“Good,” Valerie said simply, her emerald eyes glinting. “A little fear keeps you sharp. We’ll start small back down the driveway, then turn her around. Once you’ve got that, I’ll let you drive her a bit further before we park.”

Sera peeked at her through her red hair, trying for a grin. “So, I’m earning my victory lap?”

Valerie reached over, giving her shoulder a squeeze. “It's about learning, Starshine. You back her clean, you get the road again.”

The engine purred steady between them, the summer air thick with pine and heat slipping through the cracked window. Sera straightened slowly, hands sliding back onto the wheel, her bracelet charms clinking against the leather. “Alright. Teach me how not to crash us into a tree.”

Valerie smirked, settling in. “That’s the spirit.”

Valerie settled a little deeper into the seat, her voice dropping into that calm, no-nonsense register Sera knew meant pay attention.
“Foot on the brake,” she said. “Shift to reverse.”

Sera pressed down. The lever slid back with that firm click. The engine’s hum didn’t change, but the cabin felt differently coiled.

“Eyes,” Valerie went on. “Mirrors first rearview, left, right and then over your shoulder. Don’t guess. Find your line.”

Sera breathed, checked each mirror, then twisted at the waist to look back through the rear window. The driveway fell away behind them in dusty gray, pines throwing long shadows across the ruts.

“Good. We’re going to let gravity help. Feather the brake let her roll, don’t dump it.”
Sera eased up. The Racer answered with a slow, patient glide. Gravel whispered under the tires. Her heel trembled; she caught it, pressed a hair more, steadied the roll.

“Now, steering,” Valerie said, hand hovering inches from Sera’s. “Think of the top of the wheel as the back of the car. Turn it toward where you want the rear to go. Small corrections. No sawing.”

The driveway drifted a finger’s width toward the right. Sera turned the wheel a quarter-inch. The rear drifted with it, the view in the rear window sliding true.

“Good,” Valerie murmured. “Breathe. Keep that pressure. If she starts to skate on the gravel, don’t panic, straighten, squeeze the brake, and reset. You lead.”

The rear end twitched as a patch of loose stone gave way. Sera’s shoulders jumped; she straightened the wheel, eased the brake, felt the glide even out. The hum stayed low, patient. Pine and warm dust threaded the air.
“See?” Valerie’s mouth tipped. “She’ll follow.”

They cleared the slope to the flatter stretch near the turn-around. The porch sat off to one side now, distant. Sera let the car creep back two body lengths more until Valerie lifted her palm. “Stop.”

Sera pressed. The Racer settled. Her bracelet tapped the wheel once and went still.

“Turnaround,” Valerie said, tipping her chin toward the wider patch of gravel. “We’ll do it clean. Hand-over-hand, slow. Turn the top of the wheel toward the open space. Watch your rear corner in the left mirror.”

Sera exhaled, turned the wheel left, inching back until the rear pointed into the clearing.

Valerie’s hand hovered again, ready if needed; it never touched. “Now brake to a full stop. Shift to drive. Unwind the wheel.”

Click. Sera rolled her wrists, bringing the wheel back to center. The Racer nudged forward.“Good. Finish the arc. Keep your eyes where you want to go, not where you were.”

Sera fed a little gas, easing the nose around until they faced down the lane again. Heat shimmered above the hood, the lake flashing blue between the trees.

Valerie’s smile warmed. “One more treat. Take her a little farther,” she said, the hint of a dare in it. “Steady throttle. Let the path set your pace.”

Sera’s grin answered before her mouth did. She set her hands, felt the bracelet slide and settle, and pressed. The Racer moved with her no rush, no fight, just that grounded pull as the peninsula opened ahead.

The Racer hummed steady as the road opened wider, the trees thinning just enough to show flashes of blue where the lake curved around the peninsula. Sera’s hands were locked at ten and two, her bracelet chiming faintly each time the wheel shifted under her grip.

Valerie let her run quiet for a stretch, listening to the gravel crunch beneath the tires. Then she tipped her chin forward, voice low.
“Alright, Starshine. Take her just a little further. Past the bend, then we swing back toward the house.”

Sera nodded, a strand of red hair falling into her face. She blew it out of the way but never let her eyes leave the road. The Racer’s nose dipped into another shallow curve, and though her shoulders tightened, she guided through with only a small wobble.

“Better,” Valerie murmured, one elbow hooked on the doorframe. “Keep breathing. Let the road do half the work.”

The trees broke open into a strip of sunlight, the dock just visible off to the right, glittering in the lake’s reflection. Sera gasped out a laugh, quick and bright. “It feels like she wants to run forever.”

Valerie smirked, but her tone stayed steady. “She will, if you let her. But for today…” she nodded at the curve ahead, the one angling them back toward the carport and the wide deck… “we bring her home.”

Sera pressed her foot carefully, guiding the Racer into the turn. The hum wrapped around them both, alive and certain, carrying them back toward the heart of the lakehouse.

The lakehouse roofline came into view through the trees, the carport stretching open in the shade. Sera’s hands tightened on the wheel, her foot hovering careful over the pedals.

Valerie tipped her chin toward the opening. “Alright, Starshine. Time to park her.”

Sera blew out a long breath, freckles standing sharp against her flushed cheeks. “I don’t think I’m ready to back her in yet,” she admitted, her voice quick but honest. “Too risky. I’d hate to clip your bike.”

Valerie smirked, one elbow hooked casually on the door. “Smart call. Knowing what you’re not ready for is as important as what you are.”

Sera nodded hard, refocusing. She eased the wheel straight, guided the Racer nose-first into the carport, the crunch of gravel slowing to a crawl under her sneaker’s careful pressure. The matte black hood slid into shadow, stopping neatly between Valerie’s purple Arch and the Seadragon.

She pressed the brake fully, shifted into park, and let the breath she’d been holding rush out in one long laugh. Her bracelet slipped down with the release, the charms tapping the wheel like applause.

The Racer idled a moment, then Sera twisted the key back. The engine sighed into silence, leaving only the buzz of cicadas outside and the faint creak of the cooling metal.

Sera leaned back, hair sticking to her temple, chest heaving with exhilaration. “I did it. Whole loop… and didn’t wreck a single thing.”

Valerie turned in her seat, emerald eyes shining with pride. “You did more than that, Starshine. You respected her, and she brought you home.”

The silence after the engine cut felt almost too big, like the whole carport was holding its breath with them. Sera kept her hands on the wheel, thumbs still pressed tight against the leather, as if letting go would make it all vanish.

She turned her head slightly, eyes bright, voice low but tumbling fast. “When it was straight, it felt… natural. Like I didn’t have to think. Just hold her steady and she carried me. That part was perfect.”

Valerie nodded, settling deeper into her seat, her elbow draped over the door. “That’s the rhythm. Straight roads teach you trust.”

Sera laughed, a little shaky. “The downhill curve though? My stomach was in my throat. I thought she was gonna slide out from under me. But when I eased the brake like you said, it was like she caught herself.”

Her bracelet slipped as she gestured, the silver charms glinting against the dash. “It was hard not to panic. My arms felt stiff the whole time.”

Valerie reached over, tapping her daughter’s wrist gently. “That’s normal. Your body wants to lock up when the road shifts. But you kept your eyes ahead, and that’s why you made it through clean.”

Sera leaned back at that breath leaving her in a long rush. “I didn’t expect it to be so… loud inside me. Like every bump was in my chest, not just under the tires.”

Valerie’s smirk softened, her emerald eyes steady. “That’s how you know you’re paying attention. The day you stop feeling it? That’s the day you’re not safe anymore.”

Sera’s lips curved into a small, tired grin. “Guess I’ve got a lot to practice.”

Valerie gave her shoulder a squeeze, warm and certain. “That’s what this peninsula is for.”

Valerie let her hand rest on Sera’s shoulder, thumb brushing just once against the strap of her tank top. “I’m proud of you, Starshine,” she said, her voice low enough that it felt sealed between the two of them. “First time out, and you handled her better than I ever did.”

Sera’s smile flickered, shy under the weight of it, but her freckles glowed as she leaned into the touch.

Valerie leaned back, her emerald eyes catching the bracelet glinting in the dim light of the carport. “But this was only the first lap. You’ll need more practice out here loops around the peninsula until it’s second nature. After that comes the real test: city streets. Different kinds of rhythm, more noise, less forgiveness.”

Sera nodded fast, almost too eager. “I’ll get there.”

Valerie smirked, tipping her head toward the dash. “I know you will. And when your mama and I both feel you’re ready to drive her alone then the Racer will officially be yours.”

Sera’s mouth dropped open. “Wait…officially?”

“Officially,” Valerie confirmed. “Keys and all.” Then her smirk deepened, a glint of tease in her eyes. “Til then, you’re stuck with one of us riding shotgun.”

Sera groaned, dropping her forehead against the wheel. “You mean I don’t even get solo practice?”

Valerie chuckled, the sound warm and sure. “Not yet. But don’t worry your mama’s a softer critic than me. You’ll thank her for that.”

The Racer sat quiet around them, the hum gone but the moment still humming in their chests. Outside, cicadas buzzed and the lake breeze curled faintly through the cracked window, carrying pine into the cabin.

Sera lifted her forehead from the wheel, the old V charm clinking against the keys as they swung in the ignition. She curled her hand around them, holding tight like she was afraid they’d vanish if she let go.
“So she’s… really mine,” she said softly, freckles standing out against the flush on her cheeks. “Even if I can’t drive her alone yet.”

Valerie’s smirk gentled, pride clear in her emerald eyes. “She’s yours, Starshine. No one else’s. But the law’s the law, your mama and I have to keep her in our name until we know you’re ready to handle her solo. When that day comes, we’ll make it official. Free State papers, title and all.”

Sera’s grin spread wide, breaking through the careful focus she’d been holding since they started. She squeezed the keys so tight the charms pressed into her palm. “That means more than anything. Really. I don’t care if I’ve got you or Mama in the seat for now. Just… knowing she’s mine it’s the best gift I’ve ever gotten.”

Valerie reached over, brushing a strand of red hair back from her daughter’s temple. “Then we did it right.”

The Racer sat quiet around them, cicadas buzzing faint outside, the smell of warm pine drifting in through the cracked window. For a long moment, neither of them moved, just mother and daughter soaking in the weight of the gift, the road ahead waiting.

Valerie gave the dash a light tap with her palm. “Alright, Starshine. Let’s not keep the others guessing if we are wrapped around a tree.”

Sera grinned, clutching the keys tight as she pushed her door open. Gravel crunched under her sneakers as she hopped down. The summer air hit her, warm and resin-scented, the buzz of cicadas wrapping around the quiet. She swung the keys once so the old V charm clinked sharp in the air.

Valerie slid out after her, shutting the door with an easy thump, and gave her shoulder a squeeze as she passed. Together they crossed the short stretch back toward the porch.

Judy was already leaning against the railing, arms folded, a grin tugging at her lips. Sandra stood just behind, hands clasped like she’d been holding her breath the whole time, while
Vicky perched on the steps with a mug gone cold in her hand. Velia hovered nearby, her glow a steady, waiting gold.

“Well?” Judy called, her husky voice curling warm through the air. “You two are planning on keeping secrets, or do we get the verdict?”

Sera broke into a laugh, the sound bright and quick as she held the keys up high. “I drove the whole peninsula!”

Sandra clapped once, then pressed her hands to her cheeks, brown eyes wide with pride. “I knew you’d do it.”

Judy’s grin deepened as she pushed off the railing and came closer. “Looks like the Racer survived her first rookie test. That’s a good sign.”

Valerie’s smirk flickered, but her hand stayed easy on her daughter’s shoulder. “More than good. She kept her head the whole way.”

The family closed in around them, voices rising into warmth, the quiet broken by laughter and the thrum of cicadas, the lake shining just beyond the trees.

The boards creaked as Sera bounded up the steps, still swinging the keys in her hand like they were a medal. She plopped down on the top step beside Sandra, her grin still so wide it threatened to split her face.

Sandra leaned in close, her ponytail brushing against Sera’s shoulder. “So?” she asked, brown eyes bright. “What was it like?”

Sera let out a laugh that still carried the edge of disbelief. “It was… everything at once. Like my stomach was somewhere down by the lake, but my chest was on fire. When I hit that first curve, I thought she was gonna spin out but then it was like the Racer caught me. Like she was saying, ‘Don’t worry, I’ve got you.’”

Her bracelet slid down as she gestured, the star and crescent catching a streak of sun. “And the straight parts? It felt like flying. Not even fast, but like the ground was moving just for me.”

Sandra’s cheeks warmed, her smile soft. “Seeing you behind the wheel. You looked like you belonged there.”

Sera ducked her head, freckles glowing hotter at that, but her grin didn’t fade. “I can’t wait to take you with me next time on a real drive, just us. I swear, Moonlight, you’ll love it.”
Sandra’s laugh was quiet but certain. “If you don’t terrify me first.”

That drew chuckles from Judy, who had leaned against the porch post, arms folded. “Trust me, mi cielo, the terrifying part comes later like parking downtown.”

Valerie tipped her head, emerald eyes glinting as she hooked her thumbs into the waistband of her shorts. “We’ll get there. For now? Peninsula’s all hers.”

Sera was still buzzing, swinging the keys against her knee, when she glanced at Sandra. “It felt like the Racer was alive. Like she wanted to take care of me.” Her grin wobbled into something softer. “Was it like that for you guys? First time you drove?”

Valerie chuckled low, leaning her shoulder against the porch post. “Not exactly, Starshine. My first drive was in this same rig, back when the Bakkers still ran her. Vincent threw me behind the wheel when I was sixteen. Said if I could handle the Racer, the rest of the road would feel easy.”
Sera’s mouth fell open. “Uncle Vince taught you? In her?”

Valerie nodded, emerald eyes glinting. “He sat where I sat today. I was so tense my knuckles went white. Hit one rut and nearly jumped out of my skin. But he just laughed, told me that’s what made me a driver. Fear keeps you awake.”

Sandra’s smile tugged wide, though her cheeks flushed with the thought of Sera behind the same wheel years later.

Judy snorted, pushing off the porch rail with her hip. “Sounds tame compared to mine. Grams taught me, nice and patient in those slow circles around the block. But when I finally drove alone?” Her grin tipped wicked. “Sixteen, I’d just finished rebuilding a fire truck. Took it out for a spin.”

Sera sat up straighter, eyes huge. “A fire truck?!”

“Yeah,” Judy said, husky voice curling with mischief. “Didn’t make it three blocks before NCPD pulled me over. Thought I’d stolen it. Hauled me in, fingerprints and all. Grams nearly tore me apart after bailing me out.”

Laughter rolled across the porch, Velia’s glow pulsing bright gold in rhythm with it.

Vicky raised her hand like she was making a toast. “Well, at least you two had teachers. I was fourteen when I climbed into an Aldecaldo rig. Nobody was around to stop me, so I just kept driving until it made sense. Self-taught.”

Valerie smirked. “Of course you were.”

Vicky shrugged, hazel eyes glinting. “Haven’t hit a fence yet.”

That set everyone laughing again. Sera leaned into Sandra’s shoulder, clutching the keys tight, her freckles glowing bright under the porch light. “Guess I’m in good company, huh?”

Sandra brushed her thumb against the bracelet charm on Sera’s wrist, her voice quiet but certain. “The best.”

The laughter carried easy across the porch, Valerie nudging Vicky with her elbow while Judy shook her head like she was still replaying her own story. Velia hovered near the railing, her glow pulsing brighter with each ripple of sound.

Sera let herself sink into Sandra’s side, the keys still clutched in one hand, the metal charm warm from her palm. She tilted her head just enough to catch Sandra’s profile, the soft pink on her cheeks, the way her brown eyes lingered on her instead of the crowd.

“I don’t think I’ve ever felt anything like that,” Sera whispered, voice low enough for Sandra alone. “Like the whole world was moving, but I was the one steering it.”

Sandra’s smile was small but sure, her fingers brushing lightly over the star and crescent charm at Sera’s wrist. “I could see it from here. You looked… free.”

Sera’s breath caught, her grin tugging softer now. “You make it sound better than I did.”
Sandra leaned a little closer, her shoulder warm against hers. “That’s because I can tell how happy this makes you.”

Heat rushed to Sera’s freckles, and she ducked her head, laughing under her breath.
She twisted the keys once, the V charm chiming like punctuation. “Promise you’ll always be in the passenger seat?”

Sandra squeezed her wrist gently. “We ride together, Firebird.”

The porch lights flickered as the cicadas swelled, laughter from the others spilling around them, but the space between Sera and Sandra held its own quiet steady, grounding, real.

The porch still hummed with easy laughter, the boards creaking as Valerie leaned her shoulder into Judy’s. Vicky finally abandoned her cold mug on the step, stretching her legs out into the gravel while Velia floated closer, her glow casting soft gold across the railing.

Sera stayed pressed to Sandra’s side, their hands brushing just enough to pass the bracelet between them. She tipped her head back toward the carport where the Racer sat cooling, the hood dark in the shade. “She looks different now,” she murmured, almost to herself. “Like… she’s waiting for me.”

Sandra followed her gaze, lips curling faint at the edges. “Or maybe she’s proud of you, too.”

That drew another quiet laugh out of Sera, her freckled cheeks burning warm. “Then I’ll have to keep earning it.”

Valerie’s voice carried across the porch, steady and amused. “That’s the point, Starshine. Cars don’t hand out trust you build it every mile.”

Judy nudged her with a grin. “Sounds like you’re quoting Panam now.”

Valerie shrugged, smirk tugging wider. “Guess some things stick.”

The cicadas sang loud in the trees, the lake catching the last shimmer of sunlight beyond the pines. For a moment, nobody moved, just the family soaking in the summer air, laughter settling into the hum of the evening.

The cicadas carried on, the porch settling into an easy lull. Valerie had gone quiet, eyes flicking toward the tree line like she was still measuring the road in her head. Vicky stretched her arms overhead until her shoulders popped, then settled back against the post.

Judy pushed off the railing, her grin crooked as she looked straight at Sera. “So, mi cielo how about some cake and sandwiches now?” Her husky voice curled warm with mischief. “If we don’t, I’ll probably find your mother eating the cake in the middle of the night.”

Sera snorted, covering her mouth with one hand as Sandra’s shoulders shook beside her.
Valerie shot Judy a mock glare, emerald eyes narrowing. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me.” Judy hooked a thumb toward the door, smirk deepening. “I’ve caught you red-handed with a fork more than once.”

That broke the porch into laughter again, even Vicky shaking her head as Velia’s glow pulsed brighter, like she was recording the moment.

Sera clutched her keys, freckles glowing as she stood. “Guess we better eat it before Mom gets to it, then.”

Valerie groaned, but the smirk pulling at her lips betrayed her.

The laughter carried them across the porch and through the front door, cicadas fading into the soft creak of floorboards. The kitchen still smelled faintly of soy-bacon and toast from breakfast, but now the counter was claimed by the real spread: sandwiches stacked high on platters, bowls of chips, pitchers of lemonade and tea. And at the center, waiting under a glass dome, the cake frosting thick and white, ringed with strawberries that glistened in the light.

Sera’s eyes widened, the grin breaking across her freckles all over again. “That’s huge!”
Valerie brushed past her with a smirk. “Don’t worry, Starshine. Between your mama and Vicky, it won’t last the night.”

Vicky raised a brow from where she was already ferrying plates to the table. “Hey now, I have some restraint.”

Sandra whispered at Sera’s side, “Not much.”
That earned another giggle before Judy clapped her hands once, calling everyone toward the table. “Alright plates down, glasses filled, candles lit.”

Velia hovered near the counter, her glow steady and warm as she cast the cake in a faint gold sheen. Valerie struck a match, lighting the slim candles one by one until they flickered against the frosting.

Sera sat cross-legged in her chair, bracelet glinting as she pressed her hands to her mouth. Sandra reached for her fingers under the table, squeezing them once before the song began.

Voices rose together warm, a little ragged in places, but full. Judy’s husky alto, Valerie’s steady alto-turned-tenor, Vicky’s softer hum,

Sandra’s careful thread, even Velia weaving her voice in low and sure. The kitchen filled with it, summer air pushing through the open window, carrying their laughter and song into the evening.

When the last note faded, Valerie leaned forward with a grin. “Blow ‘em out, Starshine.”
Sera’s eyes shone, the candles reflected in them like tiny stars. She sucked in a breath, cheeks puffing, and with one strong blow sent every flame into smoke.

The family cheered, the cake knife already waiting in Valerie’s hand.

The smoke curled from the wicks in thin threads, drifting toward the ceiling before fading. Valerie slid the knife into her hand with a practiced spin, the metal catching the kitchen light.

“Alright,” she said, leaning on the counter with a smirk. “Birthday girl first. How big of a slice are we talking, Starshine?”

Sera lifted her hands like she was measuring an invisible slab. “Big. Like… record-sized.”

Sandra snorted, covering her mouth. “You won’t even finish that.”

“Watch me,” Sera shot back, freckles glowing as she bounced in her chair.

Valerie arched a brow but lowered the knife. “Alright then. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” With one smooth pull, she carved off a slice that made Judy laugh outright.

“Guapa, that’s practically a quarter of the cake,” Judy teased, husky voice curling with amusement. “What’s everyone else supposed to eat?”

“Crumbs,” Valerie deadpanned, setting the plate in front of her daughter.

Sera lit up, already reaching for her fork. “This looks amazing!”

Vicky leaned over, holding her plate out. “Just a normal piece for me before this one eats the whole thing.”

Valerie cut smaller slices, passing them around while Judy fetched more forks from the drawer. Velia drifted closer, her glow pulsing gold across the frosting. “Distribution appears equitable,” she observed, drawing another round of laughter.

Sandra held her plate steady when hers was handed over. “Thanks,” she murmured, before nudging Sera with her knee. “If you can even finish yours, I’ll be impressed.”

Sera grinned through a mouthful of frosting. “Challenge accepted.”

Valerie set the knife aside as Vicky slid platters of sandwiches and bowls of chips into the center of the table. Judy topped off the glasses from the sweating pitchers of lemonade and tea, the air thick with bread, mustard, and sweet frosting. Chairs scraped close, plates passed hand to hand until everyone had food balanced in front of them.

Sera held her fork like a weapon over her oversized slice of cake, but her other hand was already sneaking for a sandwich half. “I can do both,” she insisted, freckles bright with challenge.

Sandra shook her head, hiding a smile. “You’ll regret mixing those.”

“Never,” Sera mumbled through her first bite, crumbs tumbling down her wrist. The silver star and crescent of her bracelet caught the light as she reached for her drink.

Valerie leaned her chin into her palm, emerald eyes watching. “Careful, Starshine. I already stole your bacon this morning. Cake wouldn’t be any harder.”

Sera gasped, clutching her plate close. “That was different! Bacon is sacred.”

The table broke into laughter, Judy nudging Valerie with her shoulder. “Definitely her mother,” she murmured, voice husky and warm.

Vicky shook her head, folding her arms. “Sixteen years old and still guarding her food like treasure.”

“Because it is,” Sera shot back, dramatic, though she couldn’t stop smiling.

Sandra nudged her gently. “Guess I’ll just have to make sure you don’t drop any.” She slid a chip onto Sera’s plate before taking one for herself.

Velia hovered closer, her glow washing soft gold across the frosting and sandwiches. “You look happy,” she said, not as an observation but a simple truth.

Sera paused, fork hovering, then laughed under her breath. “I am.”

Sera was halfway through juggling sandwich crumbs and cake frosting when Judy leaned in, fork tapping against her own plate. “Just saying, mi cielo if you crash from all that sugar during the movie tonight, I’m stealing all the popcorn.”

Sera nearly choked on her lemonade, spluttering a laugh. “You wouldn’t!”

Judy’s grin curved slowly and wickedly. “Oh, I would. And since it’s just the two of us at the theater, you can’t count on your mom to save you.”

Valerie tipped her fork toward Sera, smirk tugging at her mouth. “Hey, don’t drag me into this one. You’re on your own, Starshine.”

Sera dropped her fork to her plate with a clatter, eyes wide in mock betrayal. “Even you?”

Sandra laughed softly, covering her mouth with her napkin. “Guess you’d better stay awake, Firebird. Or she really will eat it all.”

Judy reached across, brushing her fingers over Sera’s wrist just above the bracelet. “So pace yourself. I don’t want to carry you through dinner at the diner either.”

Sera groaned, though her grin stayed bright. “Okay, okay! I’ll survive. But I’m guarding the popcorn with my life.”

Velia drifted closer, her glow washing gentle gold across the table. “That seems fair,” she said warmly. “Popcorn is sacred too.”

That pulled another ripple of laughter around the table, the hum of cicadas outside threading through it like part of the tune.

The laughter eased into the steady clink of forks and the rustle of sandwich paper as everyone turned back to their plates. The kitchen carried a mix of smells fresh bread, tangy mustard, the sweetness of strawberries still hanging off the half-cut cake.

Sera leaned into her chair, chewing on a chip before chasing it with another forkful of cake, crumbs dusting her wrist. Sandra passed her the pitcher of lemonade without a word, their fingers brushing briefly when Sera grabbed it.

Valerie leaned across the table to steal a handful of chips from the bowl near Vicky. “These are way better than the ones we used to get on the road.”

“Because you didn’t have to dig them out of a ration crate,” Vicky said dryly, but her eyes were warm as she bit into her sandwich.

Judy smirked over the rim of her glass. “Don’t tempt me to hide the good ones next time, Guapa. Let Sera and Sandra learn the joys of ration dust.”

Sandra wrinkled her nose, earning a soft laugh from Sera, who bumped her knee under the table. “We’ll stick to chips that don’t taste like cardboard.”

Velia hovered low near the window, her glow pulsing faintly as the breeze carried pine through the screen. “This feels… different,” she said gently, like she was letting the words drift with the summer air. “Lighter.”

Nobody answered right away they didn’t need to. The house spoke for them, filled with the easy sound of chewing, laughter trailing off, plates shifting, and the comfort of being together.

Sera reached for another sandwich half, only for Sandra to slide it out of reach with a sly flick of her fingers. “Finish what’s already on your plate first,” she teased, brown eyes glinting.

“Unfair,” Sera groaned, but she dug into her last bite of cake anyway, frosting, smudging her knuckle again.

Valerie caught it, shaking her head as she nudged a napkin across the table. “Starshine, you’ve got more food on you than in you.”
“That’s not true!” Sera protested, mouth full.

“Mm-hm,” Judy hummed, sipping her tea with a grin. “I’ve got evidence right here.” She leaned forward and wiped a crumb from
Sera’s sleeve with a napkin.

Sera dropped her fork with a gasp. “Mama!”

The table broke again into laughter, Velia’s glow flaring bright gold like she was laughing too.

Vicky set down her half-eaten sandwich, leaning back in her chair. “Careful, Sera. You’ll start a food war if you don’t guard your plate better.”

“I already have to guard my cake,” Sera muttered, hugging the plate closer.

Sandra smirked faintly, then slid a chip from her own plate onto Sera’s. “Reinforcements,” she whispered, quiet enough just for her.

Sera’s freckles glowed bright as she mouthed a quick, “Thanks,” before crunching down on it with exaggerated victory.

Valerie leaned back in her chair, watching the exchange with a soft, content smile. Her forearm rested on the table, rose tattoo catching the warm light, the sound of cicadas outside steady under the chorus of family voices.

The noise slowly softened as the table thinned down to crusts, chip crumbs, and half-empty glasses sweating rings into the wood. The last sandwich halves were claimed, forks scraped plates clean of frosting, and laughter faded into smaller chuckles.

Sera leaned back in her chair, one hand braced on her stomach. “Okay… maybe Sandra was right. Mixing cake and sandwiches was a lot.”

Sandra smiled into her napkin, her voice quiet but steady. “Told you so.”

Valerie reached across and plucked a chip crumb from Sera’s sleeve, tossing it onto her own empty plate. “Next lesson after driving, Starshine. How to eat without wearing half of it.”

“Not fair,” Sera groaned, though her freckles still glowed bright.

Judy’s hand brushed Valerie’s on the table, her husky voice softening. “She’ll learn.”

Vicky finished the last of her lemonade, setting the glass down with a gentle clink. “For now, I think we’re all about ready for a breather.”

Velia’s glow dimmed to a soft, steady gold, washing warm light across the cluttered plates. “The meal was good,” she said simply, and for a moment the kitchen fell into that quiet agreement only the family could hold bellies full, hearts fuller.

The cicadas droned steady outside, the summer air heavy and sweet through the window. Inside, the table had gone from laughter to something softer, the kind of stillness that settled over people who knew they were exactly where they belonged.

The kitchen held still, the table crowded with crumbs, half-melted ice in glasses, and the faint shine of frosting left on the serving knife. No one hurried to clear it.

Sera slouched low in her chair, head tipped against the backrest, one hand still curled protectively around her plate even though it was nearly empty. Sandra sat beside her, posture tidier, but her foot brushed lightly against Sera’s under the table like she was anchoring her there.

Valerie leaned back, her arm draped along the top of her chair, emerald eyes tracing the lazy spin of a fly caught in the sunlight by the window. Judy’s hand rested over hers, thumb idly brushing across Valerie’s knuckles, her own smile small but settled.

Vicky exhaled slowly, the kind of breath that came after a good meal, shoulders loose as she studied the quiet kitchen with content eyes.

Velia hovered near the window, her glow dimmed to a soft lamp’s warmth, casting faint gold over the half-finished cake. She didn’t speak. She didn’t need to.

The cicadas outside buzzed steady, joined by the ripple of lake water brushing against the dock. Inside, the family sat in the hush of summer air and the kind of silence that wasn’t empty at all it was full, layered with comfort, with belonging.

The quiet stretched, steady as the hum of cicadas outside, until Sera finally pushed her plate back with a soft scrape. She leaned forward on her elbows, bracelet sliding down her wrist, and glanced at Sandra with a grin that tugged more sheepish than bold.

“So, um… before my moms hijack the rest of my birthday,” she said, shooting Valerie and Judy a quick look that earned her twin smirks, “I kind of just want to walk the lake with Moonlight. Just us.”

Sandra’s cheeks colored, but her smile tugged wide, brown eyes warm as she brushed a strand of hair back behind her ear. “I’d like that.”

Valerie lifted her brow, but her smirk stayed easy. “Hijack, huh?”

Sera grinned wider, rocking in her chair. “Well, yeah. You’ve got movies and diner plans. I just want a little time before all that.”
Judy’s husky laugh rolled soft. “Fair enough, mi cielo. We’ll share you later.”

Vicky reached over, brushing her knuckles lightly against Sandra’s shoulder. “The lake’s yours. Just keep an eye on the time.”

Sera nodded fast, freckles glowing with her smile. “Thanks. And after the walk, I thought we’d chill by Echo, put on the new records Vicky got me.” She glanced at Sandra again, excitement bubbling in her voice. “Just… relax.”

Sandra nodded, quieter but certain. “Perfect.”

Velia drifted a little closer, her glow brightening like she was catching the warmth of the plan. “I’ll keep Echo ready.”

The table eased back into quiet smiles, the meal done, the house full, and the rest of the day already waiting to unfold.

Chairs shifted back as Sera and Sandra stood, gathering the last of their lemonade before slipping toward the deck. Their laughter carried light through the doorway, fading toward the porch.

Valerie watched them go, her smirk softening into something quieter. She leaned her chin into her hand, eyes following the swing of

Sera’s bracelet as it caught the light one last time before vanishing around the corner.

“She was twelve when we met her,” she murmured, almost to herself. “And now she’s sixteen, asking for time alone with her girlfriend like it’s the most natural thing in the world.”

Judy’s hand brushed over hers on the table, fingers curling warm around Valerie’s. “That’s because it is, Guapa,” she said, her voice husky but steady. She tilted closer, pressing her shoulder against Valerie’s. “Still feels fast, though.”

Valerie let out a breath that was half a laugh, half a sigh. “Yeah. Blink and suddenly she’s grown.”

Judy followed her gaze toward the door, where the faintest echo of Sera’s laugh still hung in the summer air. “At least she still trips over her own feet half the time. That buys us a little while.”

That drew a real laugh out of Valerie, low and warm, as she squeezed Judy’s hand back.

Vicky pushed her empty plate aside, watching them with a knowing smile. “You two sound exactly like my parents used to. It means you’re doing something right.”

Valerie shook her head, but her emerald eyes glinted as she leaned against Judy’s touch. “Guess so.”

The cicadas hummed on, filling the kitchen with their steady summer chorus as the weight of the moment settled soft between them.

The screen door creaked and slapped shut behind them, the porch steps groaning under their weight as Sera and Sandra slipped outside. The afternoon air wrapped around them, thick with the resin of pine and the hum of cicadas, the lake stretching silver-blue through the trees.

Sera tugged Sandra’s hand as they crossed the yard, her bracelet charms glinting in the sun. “Come on before they change their minds and decide to walk with us.”

Sandra laughed softly, keeping pace, her ponytail swaying against her shoulder. “I don’t think they’d survive two laps with you after all that cake.”

Sera shot her a grin, freckles glowing as they reached the worn path that dipped toward the water. The ground crunched under their sneakers, dry pine needles breaking with each step.

When the trees finally opened, the lake lay spread before them, sunlight scattered across its rippled surface. The dock jutted out quietly, ropes creaking faint against the posts.

Sera slowed, her hand tightening just a little around Sandra’s. “Feels different today,” she said, voice quieter now, almost hushed by the size of it. “Like it knows it’s my birthday.”

Sandra tilted her head, brown eyes soft as she followed Sera’s gaze across the water. “Or maybe it’s just you noticing more.”

That earned her a crooked grin, Sera bumping her shoulder as they stepped down to the water’s edge. “You always say stuff like that. 

Makes me sound smarter than I am.”

“You are smart,” Sandra said simply, cheeks warming as she nudged her back.

The path curved along the shoreline, sun-dappled and quiet except for the steady chorus of insects and the gentle slap of water against the dock. Together, they walked it slow, no rush, the world folding into something just theirs.

The path bent close to the water, the ground soft where damp earth gave way to smooth stones. Dragonflies skimmed low over the shallows, their wings flashing in the sun.

Sera slowed her steps, kicking a pebble down the trail, then glanced sidelong at Sandra. “Y’know… this morning feels like forever ago. 

I can’t believe I actually drove the Racer.”

Sandra smiled faintly, brown eyes catching the light between the trees. “You didn’t just drive it. You looked like you belonged there.”

Sera’s cheeks flushed, freckles standing out. 

“You really think so? I was shaking so bad I thought the steering wheel would slip right out of my hands.”

“You still did it,” Sandra said softly. She brushed her fingers across Sera’s, their hands weaving together again. “That’s what matters.”

Sera squeezed her hand, glancing at the shimmer of the bracelet charm swinging between them. “Guess today feels like the first time I’ve really… I dunno, I felt older. Not just ‘the kid.’ Like I’ve got something that’s mine now.”

Sandra let that settle before answering, her voice low but steady. “You’ve always had that. You just see it clearer today.”

Sera’s grin broke through, crooked and soft. “You and your poet answer. Always makes me feel like I should’ve said something smarter first.”

Sandra ducked her head, her cheeks pink but her smile tugging wider. “You say it better without trying.”

They walked a few more steps in silence, cicadas filling the space around them, the lake breeze cool against their skin. Sera finally let out a long breath. “I think… I just wanted this part. Before the movies, the diner, everything. Just me and you. Feels like the day wouldn’t be complete without it.”

Sandra’s fingers tightened around hers, her voice quiet but certain. “Me too, Firebird.”

The dock came into view ahead, sun-warmed boards stretching over the glitter of the water.

The boards creaked under their sneakers as they stepped onto the dock, the water lapping gently against the posts below. The air was cooler here, carrying the clean edge of the lake, sunlight glinting off ripples like scattered glass.

Sera sat first, dropping near the end of the dock, sneakers hanging over the edge. She tugged Sandra down beside her, their shoulders brushing as the wood warmed beneath them.

For a while, neither spoke. A dragonfly hovered, wings buzzing sharp before darting away. The breeze carried the faint echo of cicadas from the treeline, mixing with the steady slap of water against the shore.

Sera finally stretched her legs out, toes grazing above the water. “Feels good, just… stopping for a minute.” Her voice was softer now, as if the lake itself demanded it.

Sandra nodded, brown eyes fixed on the horizon where the sun shimmered across the surface. “It’s the kind of quiet that makes everything else feel far away.”

Sera leaned back on her hands, tilting her head toward her. “That’s what I wanted. Just you, the lake, no one else calling for me.” She gave a little laugh, self-conscious but true. “Guess that’s selfish, huh?”

Sandra’s lips curved into a small, certain smile. “No. It’s your birthday. You get to ask for what you need.”

The silver star and crescent on Sera’s bracelet swung between them, catching the sunlight in a flash. She rolled her wrist so it glinted, then glanced at Sandra with a grin. “Still can’t believe you made this.”

Sandra traced the edge of the charm with her thumb, her cheeks warm but her voice steady. “I wanted you to have something that stays. Like us.”

Sera’s grin softened into something quieter, her freckles glowing under the sun. She tipped sideways until her temple rested lightly against Sandra’s shoulder. “Best gift I’ve ever had.”

The dock rocked faintly with the water’s rhythm, the world shrinking down to two voices, two sets of footsteps that had finally stopped to breathe.

Sera shifted, her fingers brushing against Sandra’s before curling tight around them. 

She gave a little squeeze, her voice barely above the hush of the water.

“Can I tell you something kinda scary?”

Sandra turned her head, brown eyes steady. “Of course.”

Sera exhaled through her nose, gaze fixed on the sunlit ripples. “When I was driving this morning… I kept thinking, one day it won’t just be practice runs on the peninsula. It’ll be me taking the Racer into town, or maybe further. Starfall shifts, trips to the city… maybe even showing you other places.” She glanced down at their joined hands, bracelet glinting against her skin. “And it hit me…I want you there for all of it. Like, everything I picture, you’re just… already in it.”

Sandra’s cheeks warmed, but she didn’t look away. She tightened her grip, thumb brushing over the star charm like she was anchoring it. “That doesn’t sound scary to me. That sounds like a plan.”

Sera laughed under her breath, freckles glowing brighter. “See, that’s why you’re braver than me. You make it sound simple.”

Sandra smiled, small but sure. “Because it is. We just… keep choosing each other. Every day.”

The dock creaked gently under them as Sera leaned closer, their shoulders pressed. She let the silence hold a moment, the cicadas filling it in. “Then promise me we’ll do it all together. Starfall, the Racer, whatever comes. No matter how big it gets.”

Sandra turned her hand, lacing their fingers fully. “I promise, Firebird.”

The lake shimmered like it had sealed the vow itself, sunlight breaking across the water in flashes that felt like an answer.

Sera shifted, pulling her knees up and resting her chin on them, her hand still tangled with Sandra’s. She watched the water for a long moment before speaking, her voice softer than her usual rush of words.

“Sometimes I think about… making it big with my art. Not just murals around town, but something people know me for. Like how Mom has her music, and Mama has her BDs. They built EchoHeart out of nothing, just… out of what they loved. People support them because they’re good at what they do, not because of who they’re married to, or family name, or whatever.”

She picked at a loose thread on her shorts, freckles tight across her nose as she frowned a little. “I don’t want people saying, ‘Oh, that’s just Valerie and Judy’s kid.’ I want them to say, ‘That’s Sera Alvarez. Look at what she made.’”

Sandra let that sit, her thumb stroking slow over the back of Sera’s hand. “They will. You’re already making things nobody else could. People stop to look at your work because it’s yours, not because of them.”

Sera’s chest eased with a shaky laugh. “Thanks, Moonlight. Sometimes it helps hearing it out loud.”

Sandra tilted her gaze back toward the glittering water, her brown eyes catching the light. “I think about it too, you know. 

Expanding beyond just poetry scribbled in notebooks. Maybe lyrics for a song, or even a screenplay. Something people could watch or hear and… feel less alone for a little while.”

Sera turned to her, surprise flickering across her face. “That doesn’t sound silly at all. That sounds… huge. Like, really important.”

Sandra’s cheeks colored, but she didn’t look away. “You think so?”

“Yeah,” Sera said without hesitation, squeezing her hand tight. “I think you could change people’s lives with your words. You already do with me.”

Sandra’s smile tugged wider, small but full, as she leaned her head lightly against Sera’s shoulder. “Then maybe we’ll do it together. Your murals, my words. Something bigger than both of us.”

Sera tilted her head to rest against hers, her grin soft now. “Yeah. Together.”

The lake spread wide in front of them, sunlight scattered across it like sparks, as if the world itself had been listening in.

Sera shifted, excitement bubbling back into her voice as her ideas spilled out. “Okay…picture this. You write something, like a whole story, and I paint the backdrop for it. Not just on a wall, but huge like a whole space people can walk through. Colors, words, sounds, all wrapped together.”

Sandra’s eyes lit, her cheeks still pink but her smile tugging wide. “Like an exhibition. People wandering inside something we built. Poems on the walls, your murals weaving around them. Maybe even sound layered in… music, voices.”

Sera grinned, kicking her sneakers gently against the dock planks. “We could totally rope Mom and Mama in for that. Lyrics and BD cuts threaded through it. Make it feel alive.”

Sandra laughed, shaking her head as she leaned into her. “The Alvarez-Dearing takeover of the arts world.”

Sera squeezed her hand, emerald eyes glinting. “No, our takeover. You and me. We’ll let them guest star.”

That pulled a laugh from Sandra, quiet but real. “Sounds nice. But maybe smaller steps first. What if I try writing lyrics for one of your mom’s songs? Not a whole track, just a verse. Something that fits her style.”

Sera’s eyes went wide, freckles glowing. 

“That’d be amazing! And I could design the cover art for it. Something with your words tangled into the background.”

Sandra tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, voice quieter but sure. “And later, maybe a screenplay. A story about us, or something like us. Two girls trying to figure out love and art in the middle of chaos. You could design the visuals for it.”

Sera’s grin softened, her chest full as she whispered, “Moonlight, I’d do all of it with you.”

Sandra’s hand tightened around hers, the promise unspoken but understood. “Then we’ll just keep building it. One step at a time.”

The dock swayed gently, water lapping against its edges as if marking time with their plans. The sun caught the bracelet on Sera’s wrist, the star and crescent flashing bright between them like a signature on the dream they’d just sketched together.

The lake shimmered with the weight of their words, sunlight glinting across the ripples like it had signed its own approval. Sera leaned back on her hands, breathing it in one more time before nudging Sandra with her shoulder.

“C’mon,” she said, her grin crooked but warm. “If we stay out here too long, they’ll come looking, and then we’ll never get that quiet with Echo.”

Sandra gave a small laugh, the sound carrying light over the water. “And you still have records to try.”

Sera’s eyes sparked, freckles bright. “Right! Vicky always knows what’ll sound best on him. You’ll have to help me pick which one goes first.”

They stood, the dock creaking as they rose. Sera grabbed Sandra’s hand again without thinking, their fingers locking as natural as breath. Together they followed the path back through the trees, cicadas droning steady overhead, pine needles crunching soft under their sneakers.

As the house came back into view, warm wood catching the sunlight, Sera slowed just enough to whisper, “Thanks, Moonlight. For today. For all of it.”

Sandra’s smile was quiet but certain, her thumb brushing over the star charm as they walked. “Always, Firebird.”

The back door waited open, voices faint from inside, and just beyond the living room, Echo sat gleaming in the corner ready for whatever came next.

The back door gave its familiar creak as they stepped inside, the cool of the house wrapping around them after the heavy summer air. The kitchen still carried the smell of strawberries and bread, though the table was mostly cleared now plates stacked, crumbs swept into a neat pile, glasses drying in the rack.

Valerie looked up first from where she leaned against the counter, her arms folded, a dish towel tossed over one shoulder. Emerald eyes softened as she took in the sight of Sera and Sandra, hands still joined until Sera self-consciously let go.

“Back already?” Valerie teased, though her smile was gentler than her tone. “Thought the lake would keep you hostage for the afternoon.”

Sera shrugged, trying to play casual as she brushed a pine needle off her shorts. “We figured Echo was waiting.”

Judy stepped out from the hall with a stack of folded linens, her grin crooked as she caught the flush in her daughter’s freckled cheeks. 

“Mhm. Looks like someone had a good walk.”

Sandra ducked her head, her ponytail slipping over her shoulder as she mumbled, “It was nice.”

Vicky glanced over from the sink where she was rinsing her mug, hazel eyes kind. “Good timing, you're just in time to keep me from getting roped into board game duty.”

Sera laughed, relief flickering across her face as she leaned into the counter. “Echo first, then maybe games.”

Velia drifted closer from her dock by the wall, her glow rising a shade brighter. “He’s ready,” she said, voice even but warm, like she’d been waiting for them.

Valerie shook her head, but her smirk curved fond. “Go on then, Starshine. Don’t keep him or Sandra waiting.”

Sera grabbed Sandra’s hand again without hesitation this time, tugging her gently toward the living room, the hum of family voices following close behind.

The living room was cool and dim compared to the bright kitchen, the wide windows filtering sunlight through the pines. Echo sat waiting in the corner, polished wood gleaming, the record sleeves Vicky had gifted still stacked neatly on the side table.

Sera tugged Sandra along, dropping cross-legged onto the rug in front of the player. She set the sleeves in her lap, brushing her fingers over the painted covers like she was holding treasure.

“Okay,” she said, glancing up at Sandra with a grin that tugged sharp and excited. “Which one do we try first?”

Sandra eased down beside her, legs folded neatly, her brown eyes tracing the artwork before landing on the one with deep blues and copper lines. “That one. It feels like it belongs to today.”

Sera nodded quickly, sliding the sleeve open. She held the vinyl with both hands, careful not to smudge the surface, before settling it onto Echo’s turntable. The soft click of the arm, the faint hiss as the needle found its groove then the first notes spilled into the room, warm and textured, wrapping around them like sunlight breaking through leaves.

Sera leaned back on her hands, eyes closed for a moment, letting it sink in. “Feels like he’s singing just for us,” she murmured.

Sandra’s smile curved, her ponytail brushing her shoulder as she tilted closer. “Maybe he is.”

They sat like that, shoulders brushing, music spinning out into the quiet house. From the kitchen came the low hum of Valerie and Judy’s voices, Vicky’s laugh, Velia’s faint whirr background noise to a moment that was all their own.

The record’s low crackle gave way to a swell of strings, then the steady rise of a guitar line that seemed to stretch and breathe with the room itself. Echo’s speakers carried it warm and full, like the music had always been meant for this space.

Sera let her eyes drift shut, her head tipping until it rested lightly against Sandra’s shoulder. The silver star and crescent on her bracelet caught a glint of afternoon sun spilling through the window, throwing a brief shimmer across the rug before settling back into stillness.

Sandra didn’t move, her breath steady, her hand brushing lightly against Sera’s on the floor between them. Her brown eyes stayed fixed on the turntable, watching the record spin in its slow, hypnotic circle.

The sound filled every corner of the living room, the gentle creak of the house, the muffled cadence of laughter from the kitchen, even the faint cicada drone outside all folding into the music until it was impossible to tell where one ended and the other began.

Sera exhaled, a slow, content sigh, her whole frame softening against Sandra’s side. For a moment, neither of them spoke, neither of them needed to. The track carried them both, every note a quiet promise echoing in the warm hush of the house.

The song wound deeper, a slow tide of sound rolling through Echo’s speakers. The needle hissed faintly beneath the melody, a fragile thread tying the room together.

Sera shifted only to tuck her knees closer to her chest, forehead brushing against Sandra’s shoulder before she stilled again. Sandra tilted her head just enough to rest it lightly against Sera’s hair, the strands warm against her cheek.

The rug pressed soft beneath their palms, wood creaked faintly under the house’s weight, and the golden glow from Velia’s dock in the corner pulsed once, then dimmed again, like a heartbeat syncing to the music.

Outside, the cicadas droned steadily. Inside, the record turned, carrying them both in its circle. No words, no rush, just the comfort of stillness, the kind that only deepened when shared.

The last chords stretched, softer and softer, until only the faint crackle of the needle filled the air. Sera lifted her head from Sandra’s shoulder, blinking slowly like she was surfacing from a dream.

“That was…” she started, then let the words trail off, a grin tugging crooked at her mouth. “I don’t even know. Like… it was wrapping me up.”

Sandra’s brown eyes stayed on the turntable, the steady spin of the vinyl. “Like it was meant to hold you for a while,” she murmured, her voice almost as low as the music had been.

Sera’s cheeks warmed, freckles lit soft by the window light. She turned to study Sandra’s profile, then smiled wider. “You always say it better than me.”

Sandra shook her head, ponytail shifting against her shoulder. “You said it first. I just… finished it.”

Sera chuckled under her breath, then leaned back on her hands, gaze drifting to the window where sunlight caught the pine branches. “Makes me want to do more. Paint something big enough that people feel like that when they look at it. Like it’s holding them for a while.”

Sandra’s fingers brushed against hers on the rug, slow and certain. “Then you will.”
Sera turned her hand to lace their fingers, her grin soft but sure. “We both will.”

The record kept spinning in its groove, the silence between tracks giving the moment a rhythm all its own.

The arm clicked faintly, and a new track bloomed through the speakers brighter this time, chords tumbling quick like sunlight spilling across the floorboards. The rhythm carried a pulse that tugged at their feet, playful where the first had been tender.

Sera grinned as her heel tapped against the rug, bracelet chiming faintly with the motion.

“Okay, this one’s alive. You feel it?”
Sandra’s lips curved into a small smile, her head tilting to catch the sound. “It makes you want to move, even if you don’t mean to.”

Sera laughed, leaning close so their shoulders pressed. “We could dance. Right here. Just us.”

Sandra’s cheeks flushed, but she didn’t pull away. “You’d step on me.”

“Probably,” Sera admitted, freckles bright as she kicked her heel again. “But you’d forgive me.”

Sandra’s brown eyes softened, a quiet warmth flickering there. “Maybe.”

The record spun faster, a guitar lick tumbling bright through Echo’s speakers, daring the room to move. Sera’s foot tapped harder against the rug until she suddenly sprang up, hand shooting toward Sandra.

“C’mon,” she urged, freckles glowing. “We’ve been sitting too long. Dance with me.”
Sandra blinked, cheeks warming. “Here? In front of Echo?”

“Where else?” Sera laughed, tugging her up before she could argue.

The rug bunched beneath their sneakers as Sera tried to spin her, nearly tripping over her own foot in the process. Sandra caught her elbow just in time, both of them laughing as the music surged around them.

“You’re impossible,” Sandra said, but her voice was threaded with laughter as she let Sera pull her back into a clumsy rhythm.

“Impossible but stylish,” Sera shot back, swaying dramatically with her bracelet flashing in the light.

Sandra shook her head, smiling so wide she couldn’t hide it. “If you say so.”

Their steps stumbled and collided, but it didn’t matter the music carried them, the house carried them, and for once neither of them needed words.

Sera tried another spin, nearly bumping into the coffee table this time. Sandra gasped, tugging her back with both hands before she toppled.

“See?” Sandra said through a laugh, her ponytail swinging loose. “You’re going to take out half the living room.”

Sera only grinned wider, freckles glowing as she dragged her sneakers across the rug in what she clearly thought was a flourish. “No casualties yet,” she declared, arms thrown wide. “That means I’m winning.”

Sandra raised a brow, trying to keep a straight face. “Winning?”

Sera leaned in, tugging her hand with exaggerated seriousness. “Style points.” Then she spun her, far too fast.

Sandra stumbled straight into her arms, both of them colliding with a startled laugh. The twirl dissolved into a clumsy shuffle, their sneakers squeaking against the floorboards, but neither of them let go.

“Unbelievable,” Sandra muttered, cheeks flushed, though her brown eyes were shining.

“Unforgettable,” Sera corrected, pressing her forehead to Sandra’s shoulder as she giggled through her breath.

The record drove on, bright and insistent, while they swayed in their own off-kilter rhythm half dance, half tumble, entirely theirs.

Sera tried to dip Sandra next, bending low with far more confidence than skill. Sandra yelped, grabbing at her shoulders before she hit the floor.

“Firebird!” she gasped through her laugh. “You’re going to break us both.”

Sera straightened fast, nearly losing her balance too, then doubled over with a helpless giggle. “Okay…maybe not my best move.”

Sandra shook her head, ponytail flying as she clung to her. “Not even close.”

But the music pressed on, fast and insistent, and Sera couldn’t resist another twirl, then another. Their steps tangled, momentum carrying them in a wide, stumbling circle until they finally gave up.

With one last spin, they both toppled sideways, collapsing in a heap on the rug. The impact sent a puff of dust into the air, and the two of them burst out laughing so hard their stomachs ached.

Sandra rolled onto her back, covering her face with her hands. “That was a disaster,” she said, muffled by her palms.

Sera flopped down beside her, freckles glowing bright, her bracelet clinking faintly as she pressed it against her forehead. “Never a disaster with you. Just fun.”

Their laughter ebbed into smaller fits, the music still tumbling above them, filling the living room like it was in on the joke.

Sera rolled onto her back, one arm sprawled out so her bracelet glinted against the sunlight striping the floor. Her chest rose and fell quick, laughter still catching in the edges of her breath.

Beside her, Sandra let her hands fall away from her face, cheeks pink, brown eyes still shining as she turned her head toward her.

“We’re never allowed to call that dancing.”
Sera grinned, eyes closed as she tilted her face toward the ceiling. “Fine. Then we’ll call it… style improvisation.”

That broke another ripple of laughter from Sandra, softer this time, until it settled into a smile that lingered as she reached across the rug. Her fingers brushed Sera’s, tentatively, then curled between them.

The record kept spinning, music tumbling bright and restless overhead, but neither moved to stand. Their breathing slowed, laughter trailing into quiet closeness, the world outside shrunk to sunlight, song, and the warmth of the rug beneath them.

Sera turned her head, emerald eyes finding Sandra’s, her voice dropping into a whisper. “Best part of today so far.”

Sandra’s lips curved, her thumb brushing over Sera’s knuckles. “It was. Because you're here."

The music swelled again, but they didn’t chase it, just lay side by side, catching their breath in the golden rhythm of the afternoon.

The ceiling fan clicked faintly above them, its slow rotation stirring the warm air just enough to keep the sunlight from feeling heavy. The music filled every corner of the room, bright chords chasing across the wood and bouncing off the glass of the windows.

Sera stretched her legs out, toes nudging against the leg of the coffee table, her bracelet slipping low on her wrist. She didn’t bother fixing it. Her other hand stayed linked with Sandra’s, fingers lax but steady.

Sandra’s ponytail had loosened, a strand falling across her cheek. She didn’t move to brush it back, letting it tickle against her skin as she turned her head toward Sera. “You’re still smiling,” she whispered, voice softer than the record’s hiss.

“Can’t help it,” Sera murmured back, freckles glowing as she tilted her head so their temples touched. “Everything feels… good.”
Sandra’s smile lingered, small but certain. “It does.”

The song built into another flourish, but neither of them stirred. They just let it wash over, eyes half-closed, the rhythm settling into their bones.

The rest of the house seemed far away, voices muted in the kitchen, the cicadas’ drone softened by the walls until it felt like only the two of them and the music existed, sprawled out in the golden hush of afternoon.

The song tumbled toward its peak, bright chords spilling over one another, then eased into something slower, softer, as though even the record knew the energy couldn’t last forever.

Sera’s fingers tightened once around Sandra’s before relaxing again, their hands still joined as the melody stretched thin. She breathed out slowly, eyes closed, letting the last notes hum through her chest.

Sandra watched the turntable, the steady spin, the needle inching closer to the center. Each faint crackle in the groove felt like a heartbeat filling the silence they didn’t need to break.

The final chord hung for a moment, trembling, then gave way to the soft hiss of the needle against empty vinyl.

Neither moved right away. The world held still the tick of the ceiling fan, the warmth of the rug, the faint weight of their hands locked together.

Only after the arm lifted itself and swung gently back to rest did Sera open her eyes, the freckles across her cheeks rising with a slow grin.

“Guess that’s our encore,” she whispered.

Sandra smiled back, her brown eyes steady. “For now.”

The silence that followed wasn’t empty. It was full, threaded through with all they hadn’t needed to say.

The needle rested still, the soft hiss gone, leaving only the creak of the house and the faint drone of cicadas pressing through the windows.
Sera stayed flat on her back, staring up at the ceiling fan with her hand still laced in Sandra’s. Sandra lay turned toward her, cheek pillowed against her arm, ponytail half-fallen loose. Neither of them moved, the quiet holding like a spell.

A shadow shifted in the doorway. Valerie leaned against the frame, coffee mug balanced loosely in one hand. The ink on her forearm caught the windowlight, the rose sharp against her skin. She didn’t say anything at first just took in the sight of the two of them sprawled on the rug, Echo’s turntable idle beside them.

Finally, her voice cut soft through the quiet. “Guess I should be worried you’ll ditch the Racer for a dance floor.”

Sera startled, then laughed, pushing her hair back from her face as her cheeks flushed red. “Mom! We weren’t…”

Valerie lifted her free hand in mock surrender, a grin tugging at her mouth. “Relax, Starshine. It looked like you two were having fun.”

Sandra pushed herself up onto an elbow, her face pink, but she managed a small smile. “The music was… good.”

“Yeah,” Valerie agreed, her emerald eyes warm as she tipped her mug toward Echo. “He’s got a way of keeping people grounded.”

She lingered another moment, then nodded toward the stack of records. “Don’t let him hog all the magic, though. There’s more waiting.”
With that, she stepped back, leaving the space to them again, her footsteps soft against the hall floor.

Sera glanced at Sandra, grinning sheepishly. “Busted.”

Sandra laughed quietly, brushing a loose strand of hair from her face. “Could’ve been worse.”

Sera flopped back onto the rug with a groan, covering her face with her free hand. “Great. First driving, now dancing. My mom's seen me fail at everything today.”

Sandra shifted closer, her elbow brushing
Sera’s arm as she lay back down beside her. “That didn’t look like failing to me.”
Sera peeked through her fingers, freckles still flushed. “No?”

Sandra shook her head, her ponytail sliding across her shoulder as she turned to face her. “No. It looked like you were having fun. And if she saw that too… I don’t think she’d call it a failure.”

Sera let her hand fall away, her grin tugging crooked, softer now. “You always know how to make me feel less like an idiot.”
Sandra’s cheeks warmed, but her voice stayed steady. “That’s because you’re not an idiot, Firebird.”

For a moment, they just lay there, side by side on the rug, the quiet stretching like a blanket around them. The turntable sat still in the corner, the next record waiting in its sleeve, but neither of them rushed to reach for it.

Sera turned her head, emerald eyes catching Sandra’s steady brown ones. “Thanks… for the dance.”

Sandra’s thumb brushed once across the back of her hand. "At least you didn't step on my foot.”

The silence lingered just long enough for the cicadas outside to press faint through the window again. Then Sera exhaled, a crooked grin tugging back across her freckles.

“Okay,” she said, pushing herself up onto her elbows. “Before my mom decides to spy again, let’s see what else Vicky picked out.”

Sandra followed, sitting cross-legged beside her as Sera reached for the next sleeve. The cardboard whispered under her fingers as she slid the vinyl free, holding it up carefully by the edges so the light from the window flashed across its dark surface.

“This one,” Sera said, passing it into Sandra’s waiting hands like it was something fragile.

Sandra set it gently on the turntable, her movements deliberate, reverent. The faint click of the arm, the tiny hiss of the needle then a new song unfurled, lower and steadier than the first two, a voice carrying through Echo’s speakers like it was meant for the quiet of the room.

Sera leaned back on her hands again, watching Sandra instead of the record. “You always look like you’re about to break a spell when you do that.”

Sandra glanced at her, lips curving faint. “Maybe I am.”

The music settled into its groove, filling the living room with a slower rhythm that wrapped around them both, as if the house itself leaned in to listen.

The song drifted steady, the low thrum of the bass curling into the corners of the room. It was slower, thoughtful, the kind of sound that didn’t demand movement just listening.

Sera’s shoulders eased as she leaned back fully, lying flat again, her hands folded on her stomach. Her bracelet slid loose, the charms resting cool against her skin. “Kinda feels like it’s telling us to breathe,” she murmured, eyes on the ceiling beams.

Sandra lowered down beside her, propping herself on an elbow at first before easing onto her side, facing Sera. “Not every song has to shake the floor,” she said quietly. “Sometimes it’s enough if it just… stays with you.”

Sera turned her head, emerald eyes finding hers. “Like your poems.”

Sandra blinked, then looked down, her cheeks warming. “Maybe.”

“Not maybe,” Sera pressed, her grin smaller but earnest now. “You write stuff that sticks. I still think about that one you gave me last year… the one about sparks in the dark.”
Sandra’s lips curved, shy but touched. “You remembered.”

“Of course I did.” Sera’s voice softened, her freckles glowing in the late sun. “It’s like this song. Doesn’t have to be loud to matter.”

The record hummed on, voice and strings weaving into the hush, the air between them thick with more than just music.

Sandra shifted closer, their hands brushing on the rug until they linked again, fingers twining as naturally as the sound filling the room.

The singer’s voice lingered in the low register, words blurring into melody until they felt more like feeling than language. Sandra’s gaze softened, fixed somewhere past the ceiling as her thumb traced along Sera’s knuckles.

“This song…” she started, hesitating, then let the thought shape itself. “It makes me think of something I wrote. Not finished, just… a line that kept repeating in my head.”

Sera turned fully toward her, propping her chin on her arm. “Tell me.”

Sandra’s cheeks warmed, but her voice steadied as she whispered, almost in rhythm with the record: “Even in the quiet, the heart finds a way to speak.”

The words hovered between them, folding into the music like they belonged there.

Sera’s grin spread slowly, emerald eyes shining. “Moonlight… that’s beautiful. You could put that on a wall, in a song, anywhere and people would feel it.”

Sandra ducked her head, ponytail slipping forward, though her lips curved at the edges. “It’s just a line.”

“Lines make everything,” Sera said quickly, squeezing her hand. “Every mural, every lyric, every story starts with one. That’s yours.”

Sandra’s brown eyes flicked back to hers, soft but lit with something steadier now. “Then maybe one day… you’ll paint it for me.”
Sera’s chest tightened, her grin turning gentler. “Promise I will.”

The record turned on, slow and sure, carrying their quiet vow in its groove.

The song sank lower, each note drawn out like it was trying to linger as long as it could. The hiss of the needle filled the spaces between, steady as breath.

Sera didn’t speak this time. She just let her fingers stay twined with Sandra’s, her thumb brushing lazy circles over the back of her hand. Her grin had softened into something quieter, her freckles glowing in the thin stripe of sun that reached across the rug.

Sandra stayed close, her head angled so their temples nearly touched. She let the silence hold, brown eyes fixed on the slow spin of the record as though it was keeping time for them both.

The house was hushed by the faint clink of dishes somewhere in the kitchen, the cicadas outside softened by the walls, the warm creak of floorboards settling into the afternoon.

Everything folded inward until it was just the two of them, the record’s low hum, and the shared weight of a silence that felt whole instead of empty.

When the track finally faded into its last breath of sound, they didn’t move right away. They just stayed there, pressed close, letting the quiet settle deeper.

The turntable whispered at the end of the groove, the needle scratching softly like breath.

Sera leaned in close, voice barely more than a thread. “Moonlight… promise me you’ll keep writing. Even if it scares you. Even if it feels too big. I don’t ever want to live in a world without your words in it.”

Sandra’s throat tightened, her eyes shining as she searched Sera’s face. She squeezed her hand, the bracelet pressing cool between their palms. “Then promise me you’ll keep painting. Big enough for both of us to stand inside it.”

Sera’s lips curved, not into a grin but something quieter, almost trembling at the edges. “I promise.”

Sandra’s smile deepened, steady now. “Me too.”

The record arm lifted itself and swung back to rest, leaving the hush full not empty with their vows.

The hush lingered, their joined hands warm against the rug, until the sound of a cupboard closing drifted from the kitchen. A moment later Judy’s voice carried through the hall, husky and amused. “Hey…tell me if I set up the board. If there are finally some new challengers out there brave enough to end my winning streak?”

Sera groaned, rolling onto her back with her arm flung across her eyes. “She’s still bragging about last time!”

Sandra laughed softly, pushing herself up to sit. “Wasn’t it three games in a row?”
From the kitchen came Judy’s quick reply.

“Four, cariño. Don’t sell me short.”
Sera peeked from under her arm, freckles scrunched as she shot Sandra a look. “Okay, if we team up, maybe we’ve got a chance.”

The turntable sat quiet beside them, needle resting, while the house slowly gathered its noise again Judy humming as she set things on the table, the faint shuffle of Valerie’s steps across the floor.

Sandra tucked her hair behind her ear, her brown eyes soft but playful. “Only if you promise not to trip over the board like you did when you tried to dance.”

Sera groaned louder, though her grin broke through it. “Unfair! That was style improvisation.”

Sera pushed herself upright, crossing her legs on the rug, her bracelet sliding loose as she tapped her chin like she was plotting a heist.
“Alright, rule one if Mama starts smiling when she draws a card, it means she’s about to wreck us. That’s when we have to distract her.”

Sandra tilted her head, amused. “And how exactly do we distract her?”

Sera snapped her fingers, grin sharp.
“Snacks. I’ll slide the chip bowl her way, you ask her something about EchoHeart, and bam she forgets her move.”

Sandra arched a brow, ponytail slipping forward. “You really think that’ll work?”

“Worked once,” Sera said quickly, then winced. “Okay, it worked for, like, half a turn. But it bought us time.”

Sandra laughed quietly, her voice low. “Then what’s rule two?”

Sera leaned closer, lowering her voice as if Judy might overhear through the walls. “If Mom sits next to Mama? We’re doomed. She feeds her clues with just looks. So we split them up before the game even starts.”

Sandra covered her mouth to hide a smile, brown eyes shining. “You’re taking this very seriously.”

“Of course I am!” Sera said, freckles glowing as she held up her hand. “Moonlight, this is war. And today’s my birthday. We have to win.”

Sandra slid her hand into hers, giving it a squeeze, her smile soft but certain. “Then we’ll try. Together.”

The sound of Judy shuffling cards echoed faintly from the kitchen, her voice calling again. “Clock’s ticking, chicas. Champions don’t wait forever.”

Sera groaned, springing to her feet. “Okay, rule three we go in looking confident.” She offered Sandra her hand to stand. “Ready, partner?”

Sandra’s fingers curled around hers as she rose, her quiet laugh trailing. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

The kitchen buzzed with soft motion when they stepped in Valerie rinsing mugs at the sink, Vicky stacking plates, and Judy already at the table, a deck of cards fanned out in her hands. She looked up at the girls’ entrance, her grin curling slow and victorious.

“About time,” she said, voice husky with amusement. “I was starting to think you forfeited.”

Sera squared her shoulders, bracelet flashing as she tugged Sandra along to the table. “No way. Birthday rules we get a shot at the throne.”

Valerie dried her hands on a dish towel, smirking as she leaned against the counter. “Big talk for someone who just learned to keep a car straight this morning.”

“Mooom,” Sera groaned, dragging the word out, though her grin betrayed her.

Vicky slipped into a chair, folding her arms on the table as she nodded toward Judy.
“Careful. She’s been on a streak all summer.”
Sandra eased into the seat beside Sera, their knees bumping under the table. “We’ve got a plan,” she said, voice quiet but certain.

Judy raised a brow, cutting the deck with practiced flair. “Oh? Gonna take more than a plan, cariño.” She dealt the first hand with a smirk. “Gonna take luck, and you’re looking at the house favorite.”

Sera shot Sandra a look, then leaned forward, emerald eyes glinting. “Good thing it’s my birthday. Luck’s on my side.”

The cards slid across the table, the smell of strawberries and bread still faint in the air, cicadas buzzing outside the open window.

The afternoon had shifted toward games and laughter, but the glow of earlier promises lingered between Sera and Sandra like a quiet anchor.

Judy fanned her cards with one hand, her grin sharp. “Alright, birthday girl, first move’s yours. Show me what you’ve got.”

Sera picked up her hand, holding the cards so close to her face she almost crossed her eyes. “You’re going down, Mama. Today, the streak ends.”

Valerie leaned against the counter, sipping her coffee. “That’s what every challenger says right before she wipes the floor with them.”

“Thanks for the support,” Sera muttered, trying to hide her smile.

Sandra peeked at her own hand, her brow furrowing. “Um… I think I might already be losing.”

Judy chuckled, husky and warm. “Don’t worry, cariño. That’s what partners are for. They go down together.”

Vicky raised a brow from her seat across the table. “Or….lsometimes they get lucky.” She laid down her first play with a neat little flourish.

Sera slapped a card down in response, leaning into the table. “See that? That’s called strategy.”

Judy barely glanced before countering with a perfect card that turned Sera’s move back on her. “And that’s called experience.”
Sera groaned, flopping dramatically against
Sandra’s shoulder. “She’s a monster.”
Sandra tried not to laugh, whispering, “Rule one… snacks?”

Sera perked up, sliding the chip bowl toward Judy with an exaggerated grin. “Hungry, Mama? You sure you don’t want to think about your next play on a full stomach?”

Judy smirked, plucking a chip and crunching into it then laid down another devastating card without missing a breath.

Valerie chuckled, setting her mug down. “Nice try, Starshine. But your mama plays on all levels at once.”

Sera sat up straighter, narrowing her eyes. “Okay. Rule two…split them up.” She glanced between her moms. “Mom, stop helping her with smug comments!”

Valerie grinned, holding up both hands. “Hey, I’m just here for the show.”

The cards piled higher, laughter bubbling with every move, the kitchen alive with playful chaos as cicadas droned steady outside.

The game moved in fits and bursts, cards slapped down with dramatic flair, groans echoing off the kitchen walls, and laughter tripping over every turn.

Sera threw her hands in the air after one bold play. “Yes! See? That’s how it’s done.”

Sandra leaned in, brown eyes flicking to the table. “Uh… Firebird? I think you just helped Judy.”

Judy’s grin spread slowly as she laid down a perfect counter. “Oh, I know she did.”

Sera dropped her forehead to the table with a muffled, “Noooo.”

Valerie chuckled from the counter, shaking her head. “Rule number one: always know who you’re actually helping.”

Vicky tipped her chair back slightly, cards fanned neatly in one hand. “Rule number two: don’t celebrate too early.” She laid down a neat little move that drew a surprised laugh from Judy.

“Well, look at you,” Judy said, her husky voice curling with amusement. “Thought you were sitting quiet, Vicky. Turns out you were just waiting to strike.”

Sera sat back up, eyes wide. “Yes! That’s what I’m talking about, teamwork!”

Sandra smothered her laugh into her hand, whispering just loud enough for Sera to hear.
“Pretty sure she’s not on our team.”

Sera shot her a mock glare, but the grin tugging her freckles betrayed her.

The pile grew, the game circling with no clear winner yet every move another excuse for laughter, every groan folded into the warm rhythm of the afternoon.

The kitchen hummed with laughter, the clatter of cards, and Sera’s exaggerated groans every time Judy countered one of her moves. Sandra leaned against her shoulder, shaking with quiet laughter, while Vicky played with a calm precision that kept both sides guessing.

Valerie stayed leaned against the counter, mug in hand, smirking at every outburst like she was watching her favorite show.

The cicadas outside rose louder as the sun shifted, streaks of late gold reaching across the table through the open window. The game’s pile grew higher, moves stacking, strategies half-serious and half-sabotaged by bursts of laughter.

It didn’t matter who was winning by the time Judy stole another play and Sera let out a mock wail, the whole table was laughing too hard to keep score.

The cards slumped back into a loose pile, hands lowering, the air buzzing with leftover energy. Plates and cups still sat scattered across the counter, and the house seemed to sigh into the lull, the noise settling into something softer.

Sera leaned back in her chair, bracelet sliding down her wrist as she drew in a deep breath. “Okay,” she said, a grin tugging wide despite her feigned exhaustion, “maybe Mama’s streak lives another day.”

“Lives forever,” Judy teased, flicking her last card into the pile with a smirk.

The room swelled with one last burst of laughter before the quiet took hold again, afternoon light stretching long across the floor.

The last ripples of laughter softened into the warm clink of cards being gathered up. Vicky stacked them neatly, sliding the pile toward the center of the table, while Valerie stretched against the counter, arms over her head, her tattoos catching the late light.

Judy tapped her knuckles on the tabletop, her grin lingering as her eyes flicked toward Sera.
“Alright, birthday girl, hope you didn’t wear yourself out. You and I still have a night in town ahead of us.”

Sera perked up, freckles glowing as she straightened in her chair. “The movie?”

“The movie,” Judy confirmed, husky voice warm. “And dinner after. But if you nod off halfway through, I’m telling everyone in Klamath Falls their local art star couldn’t make it past the previews.”

“Mama!” Sera groaned, though her grin stayed wide.

Valerie smirked, pushing off the counter to ruffle her daughter’s hair. “Better save some energy, Starshine. Don’t want her dragging you out of the theater by your hoodie.”
Sandra’s smile was quiet, her brown eyes flicking between them. “What are you going to see?”

“Doesn’t matter,” Sera said quickly, practically bouncing in her seat. “It’s a night out.”
Judy tilted her head, lips quirking. “Oh, it matters. And I already picked one. Something with enough explosions to keep you awake, don’t worry.”

Valerie handed Judy her folded jacket from the back of a chair, shaking her head with a chuckle. “She’s been planning this all week, don't let her act like she’s playing it cool.”

The kitchen buzzed again, chairs scraping, dishes being stacked, everyone shifting toward the rhythm of the evening. Outside, the cicadas kept singing, the sky already dipping toward gold.

Sandra slipped past the table, plucking Sera’s hoodie from the back of a chair before she could forget it. She folded it once over her arm, brown eyes soft as she handed it over. “You’ll need this. The theater’s always freezing.”

Sera grinned, tugging the hoodie over her head so the sleeves dangled long past her hands. “See? Moonlight knows me better than anyone.”

Judy tilted her head, smirk curling as she slung her jacket over her shoulder. “Mhm. Good thing someone does.”

Sera leaned her elbows on the table, emerald eyes bright. “So… maybe before the movie we sneak in some more driving practice? Just a little?”

Valerie chuckled, crossing her arms as she leaned against the counter. “Starshine, you hesitated backing into the carport this morning, and now you’re ready to take on downtown traffic?”

Sera’s freckles bunched as she straightened, defiant. “I wasn’t hesitating…I was making sure I didn’t take out your motorcycle. That’s called caution.”

Valerie tipped her mug, emerald eyes amused. “Caution’s good. But I saw your hands shaking on the wheel.”

Sera groaned, tugging the hood over her head. “Okay, maybe a little. But that was my first day. Doesn’t mean I can’t handle more.”

Judy laughed, shaking her head as she looped her arm through Sera’s. “Tell you what. I’ll let you take the wheel on the outskirts. Nothing but road, no fences, no bikes. But when we head back tonight, I’m driving. Night lessons can wait until you’ve got a few more laps around the peninsula.”

Sera’s face lit up, her bracelet sliding loose as she squeezed Judy’s arm tight. “Really? That’s…yeah. That’s perfect.”

Valerie’s smirk softened into something warmer as she watched them. “That’s the spirit, Starshine.”

While Valerie checked the door latch, Sandra lingered near the table, her fingers brushing idly along the edge. The low sun slanted through the windows, catching her ponytail and laying a warm sheen across the strands.

Sera tugged her hoodie straight, the sleeves hanging long over her hands, the Racer’s keys hooked around her finger by the old V charm. She stepped closer, lowering her voice so it was just for the two of them. “Kinda wish you were coming too.”

Sandra’s brown eyes softened, a small smile pulling at her lips. “It’s your night with her. You should have it.”

“I know.” Sera’s grin came quick and crooked, though her freckles gave her away. “I just… like sharing things with you, Moonlight.”
Sandra’s cheeks warmed, her voice steady but low. “I’ll be here when you get back. Save me the stories.”

Sera rolled the keys once in her palm, the charm clinking faintly, then reached for Sandra’s hand with her other. She gave it a squeeze before letting go. “And save me a spot by Echo. We’ll play another record.”

Sandra nodded, her smile soft but sure. “It’ll be waiting.”

Valerie’s voice carried from the door, light but firm. “Starshine, time to go.”

Sera shot Sandra one last grin, then jogged to the entryway, the keys swinging bright against her hoodie pocket as she went.

At the door, Judy slipped her jacket on, the edges of a smile tugging at her mouth. Valerie caught her by the wrist before she could reach for the handle, pulling her in for a quick kiss that lingered just long enough to soften both their edges.

“Keep her safe,” Valerie murmured, her voice low but certain.

Judy’s husky laugh brushed against her lips. “Always, Guapa.”

Sera bounced past them with the keys swinging against her hoodie pocket, tugging the door open to the sound of cicadas buzzing in the warm air outside. The late sun spilled gold across the porch as she bounded down the steps, a grin still bright on her freckled face.

Sandra stayed near the table, her hand resting against the back of a chair. She watched as the door eased shut behind them, the glow of daylight narrowing into a thin bar before fading.

Her fingers curled lightly around the wood, her brown eyes soft and distant, as though holding onto the last shimmer of Sera’s grin before it disappeared outside.

Sandra stayed by the chair, her fingers still curled around its back, eyes fixed on the door even after it had swung shut. The soft hum of cicadas pressed in from outside, filling the silence left behind.

Vicky crossed the kitchen with a dish towel in hand, her footsteps easy, unhurried. She paused beside her daughter, following her gaze toward the empty doorway.

“She’ll be back before you know it,” Vicky said gently, her voice carrying that calm steadiness she always held in reserve.

Sandra’s lips curved faint, though her cheeks warmed. “I know. Just… feels strange when she’s not here.”

Vicky rested her hand lightly against Sandra’s shoulder, thumb brushing once in a quiet rhythm. “That’s not strange at all, cariño. Means you’ve let her in.”

Sandra leaned into the touch, her voice dropping lower. “It’s like part of me went with her.”

Vicky’s hazel eyes softened, her smile touched with pride. “That’s what love does.”

The kitchen settled around them, the warm hush wrapping close, cicadas still buzzing outside while the Racer’s keys jingled faint in the distance where Sera and Judy were stepping off the porch.

Sandra tilted her head, her ponytail slipping forward as she kept her eyes on the door. “I never thought I’d get this… attached. Not so fast.”

Vicky’s thumb brushed her shoulder again, steady and sure. “You opened your heart, cariño. That’s what makes it feel fast.”

Sandra finally turned, brown eyes glinting with a mix of worry and wonder. “What if it’s too much?”

Vicky smiled softly, lowering the dish towel to loop it over the back of a chair. “Love doesn’t come in the wrong size. It just comes. You learn to grow into it.”

Sandra let out a small laugh, half a breath more than a sound, and leaned her temple briefly against her mom’s arm. “You make it sound so simple.”

“It is simple,” Vicky said gently, her hazel eyes warm. “It’s the living of it that feels big.”

Sandra nodded, quiet, and let the silence settle again. The two of them stood there together, the kitchen bathed in the late glow of sun, the cicadas outside singing steady, while somewhere down the porch steps the faint echo of keys jingled as Sera and Judy made their way to the Racer.

Sandra drifted from the kitchen, her steps soft across the floorboards until she reached the living room window. The glass was warm from the sun, and when she leaned close, she caught sight of Sera bounding down the porch steps, keys jingling with each skip. Judy trailed after, steady, her hand briefly brushing the railing as if to ground them both.

Sandra pressed her fingertips lightly to the window frame, holding her breath as she watched Sera climb into the driver’s seat of the Racer. The old V charm swung once before disappearing inside, a flash of light caught and gone.

She stayed there, her chest tight with something too big to name, until the creak of the front door startled her. Sandra blinked, pulling back just as Valerie stepped inside, the late glow brushing over the ink on her forearm.

Valerie glanced toward the window, then back at Sandra, one brow lifting. “Didn’t mean to spook you.”

Sandra shook her head quickly, cheeks warming. “You didn’t. I was just…” She trailed off, searching for words, her eyes flicking once more toward the empty drive.

Valerie’s smile softened, understanding in the glint of her emerald eyes. “Watching her go.”
Sandra nodded faintly, her voice almost a whisper. “Yeah.”

The door clicked shut behind Valerie, cicada-song muted again, the house folding back into its quiet with just the two of them by the window.

Valerie set the door latch with a soft click, then crossed the room until she stood beside Sandra at the window. For a moment she didn’t say anything, just let her gaze linger on The Racer.

“Hurts a little, doesn’t it?” she said finally, her voice low and even. “That tug in your chest when they’re not right here.”

Sandra nodded, her fingers still resting on the window frame. “Feels like I’m missing a piece.”

Valerie’s lips curved, not into a smirk this time but something softer, touched with knowing. “I get it. Every time Judy and I are apart, even for a night, it’s the same. The house feels bigger, quieter… and not in a good way.”

Sandra glanced up, brown eyes searching hers. “Does it ever get easier?”

Valerie leaned her shoulder against the frame, the ink along her arm catching the fading light. “You learn how to carry it. Doesn’t mean you stop feeling it. Just means you know it’s worth the ache.”

Sandra let out a small breath, half a laugh, half a sigh. “That sounds… right.”

Valerie reached out, brushing a loose strand of hair back from Sandra’s face in a gesture more steadying than casual. “It is. And when she comes back through that door? That tug you’re feeling right now flips into something else entirely.”

Sandra’s lips curved into a quiet smile, the warmth of it catching in her cheeks. “Guess I’ll hold onto that, then.”

“Good,” Valerie said gently. “It’s what I do.”

The cicadas pressed faint through the window, the last edge of sun slanting low, the house settling into its evening rhythm around them.

The Racer idled low inside the carport, the matte black frame humming under Sera’s hands. The old V charm swung lightly from the keys, clinking against the dash with each vibration.

Sera sat forward, hoodie sleeves bunched at her wrists, both hands tight on the wheel. She bit her lip, glancing once toward the open drive beyond the carport.

Judy slid into the passenger seat and buckled up, tugging her jacket straight. She leaned back, studying Sera’s grip with a faint smirk.
“Relax, birthday girl. You’re not racing Kerry down the freeway. Just us, open road, and a theater that won’t start without you.”

Sera let out a shaky laugh, freckles tightening as she adjusted her hands. “Feels different with a real destination. Not just loops on the peninsula.”

Judy’s husky voice warmed, quieter now. “That’s because it is different. But it’s the same wheel, same pedals. You’ve got this. Just remember what your mom told you this morning, eyes ahead, smooth on the gas.”

Sera nodded, drawing in a deep breath. She brushed her thumb once over the Racer’s worn leather wheel, then flicked her gaze toward Judy. “And if I freak out?”

“Then I’ve got you,” Judy said simply. “That’s what shotgun’s for.”

Sera’s grin broke through, crooked but real. She tightened her grip, engine vibrating steady under her feet, the carport lights glinting off the curve of the hood.

Judy adjusted her seatbelt, turning just enough so her eyes caught Sera’s. The smirk softened into something steadier. “Alright, take a breath, mija. Ease her out, nice and slow.”

Sera pulled in air through her nose, shoulders rising, then let it slip out in a rush. Her hands still clung to the wheel, but her grip loosened a little.

Judy’s voice dropped into that husky, teasing rhythm she knew would cut the nerves. “Just think one day it won’t be me sitting here. Sandra’ll be riding shotgun, and your mama won’t be around to ruin your fun.”

That pulled a laugh from Sera, shaky but bright, her freckles glowing as she glanced sidelong at her mama. “Promise?”

“Promise,” Judy said, her grin curling back as she tapped a finger against the dash. “But for now, you’ve got me. So go on, mi corazon show me what you learned.”

The engine hummed low, waiting, while Sera tightened her hands on the wheel, eyes fixed on the stretch of drive just beyond the carport’s edge through the rearview mirror.

Sera shifted into reverse, her sneaker hovering over the pedal. The Racer vibrated under her grip, the old V charm clinking faintly against the dash.

“Alright,” Judy said, voice husky but calm. She angled slightly in her seat, glancing back through the rear window before looking at Sera again. “Take it slow. Mirrors first. Breathe.”

Sera drew in air, tightened her hands on the wheel, then eased her foot down. The Racer rolled back with a low growl, tires crunching against gravel as the carport frame slid past on either side.

She bit her lip, adjusting, checking the mirror like Valerie had drilled her earlier. “Okay… okay, I’ve got it.”

The nose cleared the carport, sunlight spilling across the hood as the open stretch of drive revealed itself.

Judy let out a low chuckle, steady and warm. “See? Smooth as butter. Now straighten her out, then we’ll head forward. You’re in control.”

Sera exhaled, the grin breaking through her nerves. “Not bad for my first getaway.”

Sera eased her foot onto the brake, the Racer humming steady beneath her. She shifted the gear into drive, the lever clicking home with a sound that felt heavier than it should.

For a moment she just sat there, hands tight on the wheel, staring at the open stretch of gravel that curved down the peninsula. The cicadas droned loud in the trees, almost matching the pulse in her ears.

Judy leaned back into her seat, her voice husky but easy. “Alright, birthday girl. Straight ahead. Nice and smooth, just like before.”

Sera’s freckles bunched as she blew out a breath, then pressed the pedal. The Racer rolled forward, nose lifting slightly as the gravel crunched under the tires.

The lake shimmered through the trees as the road opened, the house falling quiet behind them. Each bump in the gravel rattled up through the frame, into her arms, into her chest, until it was all she could feel.

But the longer she kept her eyes on the road, the steadier it came. Her grip loosened. Her shoulders dropped. The Racer purred under her like it belonged there.

Judy watched her from the passenger seat, one brow raised, the faintest grin tugging at her mouth. “Told you. Same pedals, same wheel. You’ve got her.”

Sera’s grin broke wide, breathless but bright. “I’m actually doing it.”
“Damn right you are,” Judy said.

The peninsula road stretched ahead, warm light catching the dust their tires kicked up as the Racer carried them toward town.

The peninsula road narrowed between the pines, gravel crunching louder beneath the Racer’s weight. Sera’s hands tightened again, knuckles pale against the wheel. She adjusted too quickly for a curve, the car giving a small jolt.

“Easy,” Judy said, calm and steady, her husky voice cutting through the noise. “You don’t have to fight her. Just guide it. Let the wheel work with you.”

Sera blew out a breath through her nose, her freckles scrunched. “Feels like she’s heavier than this morning.”

“That’s just you thinking about it too much.” Judy rested an elbow against the door, watching her daughter’s shoulders. “Trust your hands, mija. They know what to do.”

Sera tried again, easing into the next bend. This time the Racer curved smoother, the lake flashing between the trees. She grinned despite herself. “Okay… that felt right.”

Judy chuckled, tapping her finger against the dash. “See? Told you. Same machine, different road. You’re learning fast.”

The gravel thinned as the peninsula met pavement, the hum under the tires changing pitch. Sera tensed again, glancing at the wide stretch of highway leading toward Klamath Falls.

Judy tilted her head, her grin crooked. “This is the easy part. Long, straight, nobody here but us. You can breathe.”

Sera’s grip loosened fractionally. She pressed the gas just enough to feel the Racer surge, the engine’s growl deepening. “Oh wow.”
Judy laughed, low and warm. “Careful. That’s how it gets you. Feels good, doesn’t it?”
“Yeah,” Sera admitted, her voice breathless but thrilled. “It feels… free.”

The miles slipped under them, the trees breaking into open stretches of farmland, the evening sun spreading long shadows across the road. Every few minutes Sera’s shoulders bunched, but Judy’s quiet reminders kept her steady, check the mirrors, ease your grip, watch your line.

As the outskirts of town came into view, streetlights flickering on in the distance,

Sera’s nerves sparked again. “What if I mess up in front of people?”

Judy reached over, brushing her hand against Sera’s wrist before letting it fall back. “Then you mess up. Everybody does. But you keep moving, and you don’t let it stop you.”

Sera’s throat tightened, but she nodded, emerald eyes fixed on the road. “Okay.”

The Racer hummed along the edge of the city, lights gathering thicker, the faint glow of the theater marquee starting to shine ahead.

The lights of Old Town glimmered ahead, neon signs flickering against the dusk, traffic threading through the narrow streets. Sera’s fingers flexed on the wheel, her grip tightening again as the Racer hummed steady under her.

She slowed a little, pulling onto the shoulder where an old diner’s sign buzzed faint above the road. The glow of the theater marquee wasn’t far now, but her emerald eyes stayed fixed on the press of headlights up ahead.

Judy leaned back, watching her with that calm, even expression she’d perfected over the years. “You’re breathing like the car’s chasing you,” she said gently, her husky tone soft.

Sera let out a shaky laugh, her freckles tight across her nose. “Feels like a whole different world from the peninsula. Too many people. Too many things to hit.”

Judy rested her elbow against the door, turning to face her fully. “That’s the city. Busier, noisier, less forgiving. But the rules don’t change, mija. Same wheel. Same pedals. Same Racer.”

Sera swallowed, glancing from the wheel to the street ahead. “You think I can handle it?”
Judy’s lips curved, slow and sure. “I know you can. But you don’t have to tonight if you’re not ready. We can swap seats, and you can take her back out when it feels right. No shame in it.”

Sera sat with that, the hum of the engine filling the quiet. She rolled the V charm once between her fingers, the metal catching the dash light.

“Okay,” she murmured, more to herself than anyone. “I can do this.”

Judy’s smirk tugged back, proud but gentle. “Then let’s go see a movie.”

Sera’s breath came in slow, her hands tightening once more on the wheel. She flicked the V charm with her thumb, then shoved it back against the dash, like sealing her nerves in place.

“Alright,” she muttered, more to herself than to Judy. “I’ve got this.”

Judy gave her a long look, then tipped her chin toward the glow ahead. “Then take us in, birthday girl. Just keep your eyes moving, mirrors, lights, and road. Nice and steady.”

Sera eased the Racer back onto the lane, the engine growling as pavement smoothed beneath the tires. The lights of Old Town grew closer, brighter, until the narrow streets folded around them.

Cars passed slowly in the opposite lane, neon casting streaks of color across the Racer’s matte black hood. People strolled the sidewalks, laughter and chatter spilling through the cracked windows of cafes and bars.

Sera’s freckles bunched as her jaw set, but her hands stayed firm on the wheel. “Okay… okay, not so bad.”

“That’s it,” Judy said, her husky tone low and even. “You’re just another set of wheels out here. Nobody knows it’s your first time, so don’t tell ‘em with your face.”

Sera barked a laugh, shaky but real. “You’re evil.”

“Effective,” Judy corrected, smirking as she glanced ahead.

A stoplight blinked yellow, then red. Sera braked carefully, the Racer slowing smoothly until they came to a halt. The glow of the theater marquee spilled bright down the next block, its letters flickering with the promise of their night out.

Sera let out a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding, turning to Judy with wide eyes. “I stopped without stalling.”

“See?” Judy grinned, resting her elbow against the door. “You’ve got this. Now let’s go park this beast and watch some bad trailers.”

The light flipped green, and with her heart still pounding, Sera guided the Racer forward, the theater lights growing larger with each turn of the wheels.

The marquee glowed brighter with every block, its bulbs buzzing faint against the hum of the Racer. Crowds gathered on the sidewalk, spilling out of the diner next door, laughter and voices rolling through the warm evening air.

Sera’s grip tightened again as she eased toward the lot beside the theater. Cars were lined in neat rows, a few headlights flicking on as people pulled out. Her emerald eyes darted from mirrors to open spaces, scanning fast.

“There,” Judy said gently, nodding toward a spot near the edge where the lights from the marquee reached but the traffic didn’t. “Wide enough to slide in easily.”

Sera nodded, breath catching in her throat as she turned the wheel. Gravel popped under the tires as the Racer angled in, the frame humming steady through her arms.

For a second she overcorrected, the hood tipping too far left, and her freckles tightened as she gasped. Judy’s hand twitched on the door but stayed back, her voice calm. “Easy…straighten out. You’ve got room.”

Sera exhaled, adjusted, and eased the Racer forward until the nose lined neatly with the faded yellow line. She set it into park, the engine dropping to a low, satisfied purr.

Her hands stayed frozen on the wheel a moment longer, her shoulders rising and falling fast. Then, slowly, she let go, falling back against the seat with a laugh that burst bright and shaky at once. “I did it.”

Judy’s grin curved warm, her voice husky with pride. “You sure as hell did. First city park, no scratches, no drama.”

Sera tilted her head back, the old V charm swaying faintly from the ignition. “Wasn't so bad.”

Outside, the theater lights shimmered across the windshield, calling them in.

Sera didn’t move right away. She sat with her palms still hovering over the wheel, then let them fall slowly into her lap. The hum of the Racer sank into quiet, the world outside muffled by glass and metal.

Her emerald eyes stayed fixed on the glowing marquee through the windshield, but her mind was still on the last few blocks: the stoplight, the turn, the parking lot, every breath she hadn’t realized she was holding.

A smile crept in, small at first, then wide enough to reach her freckles. She twisted her bracelet absently, the silver star and crescent moon charm glinting faintly in the dash light.
“Not bad,” she whispered, almost to herself. “Not bad at all.”

Judy leaned back in her seat, one arm draped over the backrest, watching her daughter with quiet pride. She didn’t rush her, didn’t tease this time, just let the silence hold steady until

Sera finally turned, grinning crooked.
“You saw that, right? Like… actually saw me pull it off?”

Judy’s smirk was softer now, warm. “Mija, I’m not sure I’ll ever forget it.”

Sera laughed, shaking her head, the sound bright and unguarded. She pressed her palms briefly to her cheeks before grabbing the keys and turning them in her hand, the old V charm swinging once against her knuckle.

“This… this feels real,” she said, voice catching just a little. “Like I actually belong behind the wheel.”

Judy reached over, laying her hand gently on Sera’s wrist where the bracelet rested just above the cuff of her hoodie. Her brown eyes caught the glow from the marquee, steady and sure.

“You do belong here,” she said, her voice husky but calm. “But remember it’s not about being perfect. It’s about learning, about keeping yourself and the people you care about safe. That’s the part that makes you a driver.”

Sera’s throat bobbed as she nodded, the grin softer now, steadier. “Yeah. I can do that.”

Judy gave her wrist a light squeeze before letting go, the old V charm swinging against the keys in Sera’s hand. “Good. Now let’s go see if this theater’s popcorn is as legendary as they say before I steal it all out from under you.”

Sera laughed, the nerves fading into warmth as she shoved open the door, the sounds of Old Town spilling in with the evening air.

The marquee lights washed the sidewalk in gold as they crossed to the theater doors, the buzz of chatter and the smell of popcorn spilling out every time someone pushed through. Sera tugged her hoodie sleeves down past her hands, the Racer’s keys still looped around her finger, the old V charm clicking against her knuckles as if to remind her it was real.

Inside, the lobby was alive with noise neon strips glowing along the ceiling, posters plastered wall to wall, kids darting between the rope lines. The air was heavy with butter and sugar, popcorn machines rattling behind the counter while the syrup-sweet scent of sodas mixed in.

Sera’s emerald eyes darted everywhere, but with the ease of someone who’d been here before. She tilted her head toward the concession stand, grinning. “It feels different coming here tonight. Like… bigger somehow.”

Judy bumped her shoulder lightly as they joined the line. “That’s ‘cause it is. Birthday girl’s first trip rolling herself into town makes everything shine a little brighter.”

Sera snorted, but her freckles gave her away as she leaned into the press of noise, the posters, the smell of warm popcorn drifting close. “So… popcorn first, right?”

“Popcorn first,” Judy agreed, her smirk curling as she nudged Sera forward with the line. “And don’t think turning sixteen gets you out of carrying the drinks.”

Sera groaned dramatically, but her grin stayed wide as she shuffled ahead, the floor sticky under her sneakers.

The line shuffled fast, and soon their arms were full, two sodas sweating in their cups, a tub of popcorn balanced between them, and a box of chocolate-covered raisins tucked under Sera’s elbow.

The usher tore their tickets with a lazy flick, neon from the lobby giving way to the dim hush of the hallway. The carpet patterned in worn constellations muffled their steps, the hum of chatter thinning as they passed doors already closed to the previews.

Sera clutched the popcorn tighter, whispering with a grin, “Feels like we’re sneaking into something secret.”

Judy’s husky laugh curled low. “Every good movie should.”

They found their theater midway down, slipping through the heavy door. The space opened around them rows of cushioned seats descending toward the wide screen, its glow already flashing faint trailers across the room. The air was cooler here, AC humming steady, faint smell of butter clinging to every surface.

Sera tugged her hoodie tighter, sleeves swallowing her hands, then trailed after Judy into the middle rows. They settled in, popcorn balanced between them, the screen flickering blue across their faces.

Sera leaned back, whispering through her grin, “Best part’s always the trailers.”

Judy smirked, draping her arm over the back of Sera’s chair. “Not when you steal all the popcorn before the real movie starts.”

The previews roared to life, light and sound filling the room, but for Sera the moment was already perfect, the Racer parked safe outside, her mama beside her, and the night stretching wide open.

The first trailer burst across the screen, all thunder and chrome, some blockbuster packed with explosions and a voiceover booming about the “future of war.”

Sera snorted into her soda straw, nearly choking. She leaned close, whispering, “Bet Mom would say the physics on that explosion are trash.”

Judy smirked, her husky laugh low enough not to carry. “Your mom would say that while secretly wanting to drive the tank.”
Sera covered her grin with a fist. “True.”

The next preview rolled, a slow romantic drama with sweeping shots of the coast and dramatic declarations about love lasting forever.

Judy tilted her head, her smirk widening as she elbowed Sera gently. “Hey, tell me that doesn’t look like something your abuelos would drag us to.”

Sera giggled, nearly spilling popcorn. “They’d buy, like, six tickets just to ‘support the arts.’”

“Then fall asleep halfway through,” Judy added.

They cracked up, drawing a shush from somewhere down the row. Sera pressed her hands over her mouth, whispering between her fingers, “Okay, okay…I’ll be good.”

Another trailer flickered on, this one for an animated feature about a ragtag group of animals saving the galaxy. Bright colors, ridiculous gags, and an overexcited theme song.

Sera leaned forward, eyes wide. “I would totally watch this.”

Judy arched her brow, smirk still tugging at her lips. “Of course you would. The whole galaxy is on the line and the hero’s a raccoon with a wrench.”

“That’s the best part!” Sera fired back, a little too loud before she ducked in her seat, laughing into her sleeve.

The trailers rolled on, but the two of them stayed wrapped in their own rhythm whispers, laughter muffled into the popcorn, the glow of the screen painting them in bursts of color that felt bigger than the room itself.

The last trailer faded out, the screen going dark. For a heartbeat the theater sat hushed, only the rustle of bags and the occasional squeak of a straw breaking the quiet. Then the studio logo burst across the screen, its fanfare rolling heavy through the speakers.

The crowd settled in deeper, voices dropping to whispers before disappearing altogether.

Sera sank back into her seat, tugging her hoodie closer against the chill. Her hand brushed the rim of the popcorn tub balanced on her lap, then slipped to her bracelet, the star and crescent charm cool against her skin.

Beside her, Judy tilted the tub toward her, fingers brushing Sera’s as she stole a handful. She didn’t say anything this time, no teasing, just a grin catching in the faint flicker of light.

The opening scene filled the screen, sound swelling until it drowned out every thought. But Sera barely noticed the movie yet her pulse was still caught between the hum of the Racer, the glow of the marquee, and the warmth of her mama sitting close enough to feel against her shoulder.

When she finally let herself lean just slightly into that comfort, Judy shifted her arm along the back of the seat, drawing her in without a word.

The movie unfolded, light and color painting them both, the theater wrapped in silence but for the roar of the screen.

The film unspooled in bursts of sound and color chases through crowded streets, dialogue meant to be sharp but landing more clumsy, whole cities collapsing to the crash of orchestral drums.

But Sera’s focus drifted. She caught pieces of the story, sure, but her mind kept tugging elsewhere: the way the Racer had felt under her hands, every bump rattling into her chest; the shimmer of the lake when she’d taken that curve too fast; the hum of the car when she’d pulled into the theater lot without stalling.

She let her bracelet slip under her fingers, twisting the star and crescent charm until it clicked against the metal of the seat. In the blue flicker from the screen, it glinted like something alive.

Her emerald eyes flicked sideways, catching Judy’s profile lit in half-shadows; the smirk still curled faintly at her lips even when she wasn’t saying a thing. Sera leaned into that quiet, the steady presence beside her, her mama’s arm stretched behind her seat like it had been waiting there all along.

For the first time all day, she didn’t feel like she had to talk or joke or prove anything. The screen thundered on, but inside, she felt still.
I really am growing up, she thought, the words both thrilling and terrifying. The Racer’s keys sat heavy in her hoodie pocket, proof she wasn’t just a kid anymore, but sitting here, tucked under her mama’s arm, she knew she wasn’t ready to stop being one either.

She blinked fast, grounding herself with another twist of the bracelet before letting her head tip gently toward Judy’s shoulder.

Judy didn’t move, didn’t speak, but her fingers brushed once against the back of Sera’s hoodie just enough to say she’d noticed, just enough to say she was proud.

The movie roared on, but for Sera the moment was its own feature, one she wanted to remember more than any scene on the screen.

The credits rolled in a wash of names and music that felt too triumphant for what Sera had actually followed. Around them, the theater stirred seats creaking, whispers returning, popcorn tubs crumpling as people shuffled to their feet.

Sera stayed put, her hoodie sleeves pulled tight over her hands, her head still resting against Judy’s shoulder. She let the glow of the credits spill across her eyes a moment longer, not ready for the quiet outside the theater to replace this cocoon of sound and shadow.

Judy stretched once, her arm brushing along the back of Sera’s chair before she leaned down. “Didn’t even fall asleep,” she murmured, husky voice amused. “Guess I don’t get the popcorn after all.”

Sera grinned against her shoulder, freckles scrunching. “Told you I could handle it.”

“Handled it like a champ,” Judy said softly, squeezing her hand before nudging her upright. “Come on, let’s get out of here before the crowd swallows us.”

They filed out with the others, the theater doors opening to the warm night air. Neon from the marquee washed over the sidewalk, the smell of butter fading into the crisp scent of summer.

Sera tugged her hoodie tighter, the Racer’s keys heavy in her pocket as she looked toward the lot. Her smile lingered, soft and certain tonight wasn’t over yet.

The crowd spilled around them as the theater doors swung shut, chatter and laughter bouncing off the brick walls of Old Town. The marquee buzzed overhead, its golden glow casting long shadows down the sidewalk.

Sera lingered just off the curb, pulling her hoodie tighter, her breath catching in the shift from the chilled theater air to the soft warmth of summer night. The Racer sat parked at the edge of the lot, its matte frame gleaming faint under the streetlight.

She let the keys slip into her palm, the old V charm clicking against her ring, grounding her.

“Kinda feels like I’m still in the movie,” she murmured, half to herself. “Like everything’s too bright out here.”

Judy smirked, her husky voice curling low as she adjusted her jacket. “That’s how you know the film worked. The world feels a little off until you remember you’re the one driving again.”

Sera laughed softly, tucking her hands into her sleeves. “Guess I’m still trying to believe that part.”

Judy tipped her chin toward the Racer. “You believed it just fine earlier. The whole city saw you roll in without a scratch.”

That drew a grin from Sera, quick and crooked. She let her eyes drift back toward the neon, the buzz of signs mixing with the murmur of voices and the faint thrum of cicadas somewhere beyond the buildings.

For a moment she just soaked it in the smell of fried food drifting from the diner, the press of people heading home, the fact that this was her sixteenth birthday, and she’d just parked the Racer in town like it was hers.

Judy gave her elbow a light nudge. “You ready to trade the popcorn for something real?”

Sera grinned wider, her freckles lit gold by the marquee. “Yeah. Diner time.”

They stepped off the curb, weaving through the small crowd spilling from the theater. The buzz of chatter softened behind them as they crossed toward the diner, its neon chicken sign glowing faintly above the door.

Sera’s hoodie sleeves dangled past her hands, the Racer’s keys swinging from her finger as she walked at Judy’s side. “Okay, I’m still full of popcorn, but if they don’t bring fries in under ten minutes, I’m suing.”

Judy chuckled, her husky voice curling low.
“On your sixteenth birthday, you can threaten lawsuits but not skip veggies. Fries come with a salad.”

“Cruel,” Sera shot back, though her grin stayed wide.

Halfway across the street, she glanced down the block. The diner’s neon cast its glow against the brickwork, and just beyond it the warm, starlit script of The Starfall shimmered in the night. The front windows glowed amber, laughter and faint music spilling out each time someone pushed through the door.

Next to it, Luz de Mañana’s familiar sign stood steady, its windows dark but welcoming even after hours.

Sera slowed just a step, her freckles lit by the mix of neon and starlight. “Kinda crazy, isn’t it? All of it’s right here. Our stuff. Like… a whole block breathing because of us.”

Judy followed her gaze, her smirk softening.
“That’s the revolution, mija. Started with music, with a bar, with a bookshop. Grows bigger every time someone else believes in it.”

Sera rolled the V charm once in her hand, the grin tugging back. “Someday I’ll put my art up there too. Right on this street.”

“Someday?” Judy bumped her with her shoulder, teasing back. “You’re already halfway there.”

They reached the diner door, the scent of fried food and coffee rushing out as someone exited, laughter mixing with the buzz of the neon overhead.

They paused just shy of the diner door, the glow of its neon chicken sign humming above their heads. Sera lingered, her sneakers scuffing against the curb as her eyes tracked the block again the shimmer of Starfall’s sign alive with movement, the faint silhouettes of people inside raising glasses; Luz de Mañana’s windows dark now, but still carrying the memory of afternoons spent between its shelves.

Her chest swelled, a rush of pride tangling with disbelief. “Feels like the whole world’s on this street,” she whispered.

Judy tilted her head, studying her daughter in the marquee’s light. “Maybe not the whole world,” she said softly, “but the parts that matter.”

Sera twisted her bracelet absentmindedly, the star charm catching the streetlight as she spoke. “Mom always says she promised you a home. But it’s more than that now, isn’t it? It’s… I dunno. A home for everyone.”

Judy’s lips curved, husky voice warm as she bumped Sera’s shoulder with her own. “That’s the magic, mija. It started with one promise and grew into something bigger. That block’s proof of it.”

For a heartbeat, Sera just stood there, soaking it in the laughter spilling from Starfall, the memory of books under her arm from Luz de Mañana. All the threads tied together in one place, humming like a song.

She drew a breath, slow and certain, before tugging on the diner’s door handle. “Okay.
Fries and cake, then someday I will add my piece to it.”

“Fries first,” Judy teased, following her in. “Revolution later.”

The door swung open, a rush of warmth spilling out with the smell of fried batter, coffee, and grilled onions. The low hum of a jukebox mixed with clinking silverware and the murmur of conversations from booths lined in worn red vinyl.

Sera stepped in first, tugging her hoodie sleeves down as the cool theater chill finally gave way to the diner’s heat. The keys jingled against her palm, the old V charm catching the neon glow before she tucked it into her pocket.

“Look who it is,” a familiar voice called from behind the counter.

Carla leaned against the register, one hand braced on her hip. Her curls were pulled up in a messy knot, and her apron was streaked with flour, but her grin was sharp as ever. “Birthday girl herself, right on time.”

Sera lit up, freckles glowing as she bounced on her toes. “Carla!” She darted forward to wrap her in a quick hug over the counter, nearly knocking a menu stand in the process. “Still here?”

“Where else would I be?” Carla teased, squeezing her back before letting go. “Though I am clocking out in an hour. You lucked out.”
Judy slid in behind, smirk curling as she tugged Sera gently away from blocking the counter. “Don’t let her fool you, she's been waiting for an excuse to sneak you extra fries.”

Carla winked, already reaching for a couple of menus. “You know me too well, Alvarez.” She jerked her chin toward the booths. “C’mon, I’ve got your spot open.”

The three of them wove past tables of locals and travelers, the vinyl seats squeaking as
Carla led them to a booth near the window.

The view outside still held the theater marquee, the diner neon buzzing steady above the glass.

Sera slid in, bouncing against the cushion, her grin still wide. “The best day ever keeps getting better.”

Judy smirked, sliding in across from her. “Careful, mi cielo. You say that too many times and the universe might start testing it.”

Carla snorted, dropping menus onto the table. “Relax, Judy. It’s a diner, not a warzone.”

Carla slid the menus across the table, but instead of leaving, she leaned her elbows on the edge of the booth, chin propped in her hand. “So, sixteen. How’s it feeling, Sera? You wake up taller? Smarter? Suddenly less of a pain in the ass?”

Sera laughed, tugging at her hoodie sleeve. “Taller, maybe. Jury’s still out on the rest.”

“Mm-hm,” Carla said, eyes glinting. “I’ll give it a week before you’re sneaking into the kitchen to ‘borrow’ cookies again.”

Judy smirked, her husky voice low. “Week’s generous. I give her two days.”

Sera groaned, pressing her face into her sleeve. “You’re both ganging up on me!”

“That’s because it’s easy,” Carla teased, straightening just enough to snag a pen from behind her ear. “So, birthday feast, what's the damage? Fries and cake? Or are we pretending to eat something green first?”

Sera peeked over her sleeve, grinning despite herself. “Fries. Definitely fries. And maybe a burger. Cake’s negotiable.”

“Not negotiable,” Judy cut in, folding her arms across the table. “Already promised you’d get cake twice today. Don’t think you’re skipping it now.”

Carla raised her brows, her grin widening. “Twice? Guess I better make sure the kitchen doesn’t burn this one.”

Sera laughed, freckles glowing. “You better not.”

Carla gave her shoulder a playful tap with the menu before standing. “Alright, fries, burger, cake, and one salad for Judy so she can keep the moral high ground.”

Judy smirked, shaking her head. “Make it two salads. One for the birthday girl too. She needs balance.”

Sera’s groan rattled the window glass, but Carla only laughed, scribbling on her pad as she walked off.

The hum of the diner wrapped around them silverware clinking, the low thrum of the jukebox spilling an old Kerry track across the room, the hiss of the fryers from behind the counter.

Sera leaned back against the vinyl seat, her hoodie sleeves swallowing her hands as she traced the star charm of her bracelet against the edge of the table. She peeked past Judy toward the counter, where Carla was already hollering the order back to the kitchen with her usual flair.

“She’s never changed,” Sera said with a grin, lowering her voice like it was a secret. “Still acts like the whole diner’s her stage.”

Judy chuckled, her husky laugh curling low. “That’s because it is. Carla runs this place more than the owners do.”

Sera snorted into her sleeve. “Think she’d let me work here someday? Like… as a side gig?”

Judy tilted her head, watching her daughter’s emerald eyes glint in the neon light. “You really want to smell like grease every night?”

“Better than smelling like paint thinner all the time,” Sera shot back, though her grin gave her away.

Judy smirked, leaning across the table, her voice softening. “Mija, you’ll always have a place to work if you want it, Starfall, and Luz de Mañana. But if you want to sling fries with Carla, I won’t stop you.”

Sera twisted the bracelet again, her grin fading into something quieter. “Maybe I just like the idea of being part of the block. You know… all of us together.”

Judy’s brown eyes softened, the neon reflecting in them like warm embers. “You already are.”

The jukebox shifted tracks, chatter swelled and dipped around them, and the smell of fried food drifted closer as a server passed with a tray bound for another table.

Sera exhaled, shoulders loosening as she leaned forward, elbows braced on the table. “Okay… maybe I am ready for that cake.”

Carla reappeared with her tray balanced on one hand, weaving through the tables like she owned the floor. The smell hit first, hot fries, toasted buns, and something sweet underneath it all.

“Alright,” she announced, sliding up to their booth, “birthday feast, as promised.”

She set down two sweating sodas, the ice clinking as they hit the table, then slid a basket of golden fries between them, steam curling in the neon glow. Next came a burger stacked tall, cheese melting over the edge, the bun glistening like it had been brushed with butter. And finally, with a little flourish, a slice of cake on its own plate, frosting thick and topped with a single strawberry.

Sera’s eyes widened, her grin breaking wide. “Carla, this looks amazing!”

“Of course it does,” Carla said, smirking as she set the tray against her hip. “I told the cook it was a birthday plate. He actually pretended to care for once.”

Judy chuckled, reaching for a fry and blowing on it before popping it into her mouth. “Guess we owe him a tip too, then.”

Carla rolled her eyes, though her grin stayed.
“Eat first, argue tips later. I’ll check on you in a bit.” She gave Sera’s shoulder a quick squeeze before heading back toward the counter, already calling over her shoulder to another table.

Sera pulled the basket of fries closer, hoodie sleeves still dangling, and let out a happy sigh. “Okay. Best birthday dinner ever.”

Judy smirked, lifting her soda. “You said that about breakfast too.”

“And lunch,” Sera added around a mouthful of fries, her freckles glowing.

“Then I guess we’re doing something right,” Judy said softly, her brown eyes catching hers in the neon wash.

Sera dug into her fries first, dragging one through a puddle of ketchup she’d already squeezed onto the edge of her plate. “You know,” she said, mouth half-full, “if Carla really wanted to give me a gift, she would’ve brought two baskets of these.”

Judy smirked, stealing one straight from the basket before Sera could stop her. “She did give you a gift, she trusted you not to hog them.”

Sera groaned dramatically, clutching the basket closer to her chest. “I’m the birthday girl. That means fries immunity!”

“That means nothing,” Judy said, husky laugh curling warm as she reached over to steal another.

Sera tried to block her with her hoodie sleeve, nearly knocking over her soda in the process.

She caught it at the last second, freckles scrunching as she glared playfully. “You’re supposed to be on my side!”

“I’m always on your side,” Judy said, chewing, “just not when fries are involved.”

Sera huffed, but the grin never left her face.
She shifted to the burger, picking it up with both hands. The bun squished down, cheese stretching as she took a bite. She made a muffled sound, eyes widening, and dropped it back to the plate. “Okay, that’s insane. This burger is so good.”

“That’s because you didn’t cook it,” Judy teased, sipping her soda.

Sera pointed at her with a fry, still chewing. “Rude. I didn’t mess anything up today.”

Judy arched a brow, smirk tugging. “Mm, true… unless we count you nearly drooling on the bacon when you came running down the stairs this morning.”

Sera’s freckles bunched as she laughed, shaking her head. “Hey! That was dramatic entrance energy.”

“Looked more like hungry panic to me,” Judy teased, stealing another fry before Sera could guard them.

“Unbelievable,” Sera muttered, though her grin never faded.

Carla swung back by with another small tray balanced in her hand. “Almost forgot the moral high ground, incoming.”

She slid a bowl of greens in front of Judy, the vinaigrette glinting under the diner lights, then set a smaller side salad in front of Sera. “Balance, remember?” she teased.

Sera groaned, nudging the bowl aside toward the edge of the table. “Birthday girls don’t do balance.”

“Birthday girls do whatever keeps Carla off their case,” Carla shot back, smirking before heading off again to another booth.

Judy forked into her salad, shaking her head with a husky laugh. “What’s that about balance again?”

Sera rolled her eyes, dragging her fries closer. “Fine. I’ll eat some lettuce… after cake.”

“Progress,” Judy murmured, spearing a tomato with her fork.

Sera poked at the small bowl Carla had dropped in front of her, the lettuce leaves limp under the diner lights. She groaned dramatically, hoodie sleeves hanging past her hands. “This is an insult to birthdays everywhere.”

Judy stabbed a cherry tomato from her own bowl, smirking as she popped it into her mouth. “That’s called balance, mija. Keeps the fries from killing you before twenty.”

Sera lifted a fry like it was proof in a courtroom. “Fries are life. Salad is… green sadness.”

Judy’s husky laugh curled low. “Green sadness is why your mama still fits her jeans after all these years. You might want to take notes.”

Sera’s freckles scrunched as she leaned over her plate, grinning. “Nope. I’ll take fries over fashion any day.”

Judy shook her head, sipping her soda before forking another bite of lettuce. “Famous last words.”

Sera stuffed a fry into her mouth, speaking around it. “Better than boring last words.”

That pulled a laugh out of Judy, warm and unguarded. “You get that mouth from me.”

“And the appetite from Mom,” Sera shot back, reaching for the burger with both hands.

The smell of grilled beef and melted cheese rose sharp as she took a bite, her eyes closing in exaggerated bliss. “Okay. Fries and burger. Green sadness is officially forgotten.”

By the time Sera polished off half her burger and the fries basket sat picked over between them, her eyes kept drifting back to the plate at the edge of the table, the slice of cake waiting under a heavy cap of frosting and its single bright strawberry.

She tapped her fork against the plate, grinning. “So… you think I should test this quality now, or save it for breakfast like Mom does with midnight leftovers?”

Judy smirked, spearing a leaf of lettuce with her fork before setting it down. “If you wait, I’ll find it gone in the morning. Better share before it’s stolen.”

Sera snorted and pulled the plate closer, cutting into the frosting with the edge of her fork. She scooped up a bite and held it out across the table. “Here. Proof I’m generous.”

Judy leaned forward just enough, lips curling around the fork as she took the bite. Her husky laugh followed. “Not bad. Almost worth the salad.”

Sera dug in herself, a smear of frosting catching on her lip as she took her own bite.

Her eyes widened, emerald bright. “Oh wow. This is so much better than the one at lunch.”

“Don’t let your mom hear you say that,” Judy teased, stealing the strawberry off the top before Sera could stop her.

“Hey!” Sera laughed, reaching across the table. “That was mine!”

“Birthday rule,” Judy said, chewing slowly, her grin smug. “Mamas get first pick.”

Sera’s laugh filled the booth, bouncing off the neon-lit window beside them. She shook her head, still grinning as she dug into the rest of the slice. “Be happy I love you. Mama.”

The plate didn’t stand a chance. Between Judy sneaking a few more forkfuls and Sera defending her half with mock ferocity, the frosting smears were all that remained.

Sera set her fork down with a sigh, slumping against the booth’s vinyl cushion. “Okay… officially stuffed. Fries, burger, cake that’s the perfect trifecta.”

Judy dabbed her mouth with a napkin, smirk tugging at her lips. “You forgot the salad.”

Sera groaned, pulling her hood up over her head. “Green sadness doesn’t count.”

That drew a warm, husky laugh from Judy. She reached across the table, tugging the hood back just enough to see her daughter’s face. “You’re impossible.”

“And sixteen,” Sera added quickly, her grin sneaking back through.

Judy’s smirk softened into something steadier. “Yeah, you are.”

For a moment the diner hummed around them the clatter of dishes, Carla calling another order to the kitchen, the jukebox spinning another old tune. Neon buzzed steady above the window, spilling light over their table as if to frame them in the glow.

Sera tapped the fork against the empty plate, the bracelet sliding down her wrist with the motion. “Guess I can’t ask for much more.”

“You don’t have to,” Judy said simply, sliding out of the booth and stretching her arms with a soft crack. “Come on. We’ve still got a drive home before your mom raids the fridge.”

Sera laughed, scooping the Racer’s keys from the table where she’d set them down earlier.
The old V charm swung against her palm as she slid out of the booth. “She’ll go straight for the cake crumbs.”

“And claim she didn’t,” Judy replied with a grin, holding the door open as the night air drifted in, warm and thick with cicadas.
Judy slid out of the booth first, fishing her wallet from her jacket pocket. She tapped the edge of the check Carla had left tucked under the salt shaker. “Sit tight a sec, mija. Let me cover this before we hit the road.”

Sera leaned forward, propping her chin on her hand while she twisted the Racer’s keys around her finger, the old V charm clicking against the table. “I could’ve at least paid for my cake.”

Judy smirked, her husky voice low as she stood. “Not on your birthday. That’s my job.”

Carla swooped by just long enough to scoop up the check and Judy’s bills with a wink. “Happy birthday again, Sera. And don’t let your mama steal the last fries next time.”

Sera laughed, sliding out of the booth, her hoodie sleeves hanging long as she twirled the keys one last time. She pressed them into
Judy’s palm, reluctant but grinning. “Guess this is where I hand ‘em over.”

Judy curled her fingers around the ring, the charm clinking softly in her hand. “That’s right. Night lessons are for another day. You’ll get these back when we’re home.”

Sera wrinkled her nose but nodded, freckles glowing under the neon. “Fine… but only ‘cause it’s still my birthday.”

Sera wrinkled her nose but nodded, freckles glowing under the neon. “Fine… but only ‘cause it’s still my birthday.”

Judy pocketed the keys, giving them a little jingle as she leaned down close. “And because I’d rather not spend the night explaining to KFPD why my brand-new sixteen-year-old daughter thought she could handle downtown traffic in the dark.”

Sera groaned, burying her face into her sleeve before peeking out again with a grin. “Okay, that’s fair.”

Judy chuckled, her husky laugh curling warm as she draped her arm across Sera’s shoulders and guided her toward the door.

“That’s better. Tomorrow, Starshine. Tonight, you ride home with me.”

The diner door swung open on a rush of warm night air, cicadas buzzing steady as the neon glow spilled across the street.

The door swung shut behind them, muting the clatter of plates and jukebox hum, leaving only the cicadas and the buzz of the diner’s neon chicken sign.

Sera shoved her hands into her hoodie pocket, trailing half a step behind Judy as they crossed the sidewalk. The air was warm, laced with the smell of fryer oil that clung to their clothes. Down the block, Starfall’s starlit script glowed steady above the brickwork, with Luz de Mañana dark but familiar beside it.

Sera glanced that way, her grin tugging soft. “Kinda like the whole street’s ours.”

Judy’s brown eyes flicked toward the glow before she looked back at her daughter.

“Feels that way sometimes.” Her voice was husky but even, steady as the arm she rested across Sera’s shoulders for a moment. “Don’t forget you helped build that feeling.”

The lot stretched open ahead, the Racer waiting under the streetlight, matte black body gleaming faint. The V charm clinked softly as Judy slipped the keys from her pocket, twirling them once before catching them in her palm.

Sera’s steps quickened, her hoodie sleeves bouncing as she half-jogged the last few paces. She pressed her hand to the hood like it was alive, warm from the day’s heat. “It still feels unreal that she’s mine.”

“Not just yet,” Judy corrected gently, unlocking the door with a click. “But she will be. One step at a time.”

Sera smiled at that, freckles catching in the glow as she moved to the passenger side, sliding in with a soft bounce against the seat.

Judy circled to the driver’s side, the keys swinging once more before she turned them in the ignition. The Racer’s engine rolled to life, low and steady, carrying the hum of home with it.

The Racer eased out of the lot, headlights washing over the cracked asphalt as Judy steered them toward the quiet stretch leading out of Old Town. The neon glow of the diner and theater slipped behind, replaced by the darker hum of the highway.

Sera leaned her head against the cool glass, hoodie hood half up, watching the blur of storefronts thin into trees. Her bracelet slid down her wrist with each turn, the star charm glinting faintly whenever the dashboard lights caught it.

For a while neither of them spoke, the low growl of the engine and the steady rhythm of tires on pavement filling the silence. It was a different hum than earlier, less nervous, more like being carried.

Finally, Sera broke it, her voice soft but sure. “Best birthday ever.”

Judy’s smirk tugged as she shifted her grip on the wheel, eyes steady on the dark road ahead. “Even with the salad?”

Sera groaned, turning her face into the window. “You’re never letting that go, are you?”

“Not a chance,” Judy teased, her husky laugh curling warm in the cabin. “But hey…you handled today like a pro. Driving, dinner, all of it.”

Sera smiled, quiet but bright, and hugged her knees up onto the seat, curling sideways. “Couldn’t have done it without you.”

Judy glanced at her then, brown eyes soft in the glow of the dash lights. “That’s what I’m here for, mi cielo.”

The road narrowed as they turned down the peninsula, gravel crunching under the tires again. The trees thickened around them, cicadas louder now, the lake catching the last sliver of moonlight just beyond.

Sera’s eyes grew heavy as the Racer rolled on, the sound of the engine lulling her deeper into that warmth, the kind that only came from being safe, being home.

Gravel popped under the Racer’s tires as Judy guided it up the last stretch of drive. The lake shimmered faint beyond the trees, silver under the rising moon.

The carport came into view, dimly lit by the porch light Valerie had left on. The purple Arch rested tucked neatly to one side, its chrome faintly glinting. Judy eased the wheel, the Racer sliding in nose-first with a low rumble before she set it into park.

The engine clicked into silence, leaving only the cicadas and the faint lap of water against the dock.

Sera stirred from where her head had slumped against the window. She blinked, rubbing her eyes with the sleeve of her hoodie. “We’re back already?”

The engine clicked into silence, leaving only cicadas and the faint lap of water against the dock.

Sera stirred where her head had slumped against the window. She blinked, rubbing her eyes with the sleeve of her hoodie. “We’re back already?”

Judy smiled, husky and quiet as she pulled the keys free, the old V charm clinking in her palm. “You dozed the whole way. Guess cake and driving lessons knocked you out.”

Sera stretched, her bracelet sliding down her arm, and leaned her head back against the seat with a crooked grin. “Couldn’t have asked for a better day.”

Judy reached over, brushing a strand of red hair from her forehead, her voice soft. “And it’s only the first of many, mi cielo.”

The car doors creaked open in unison, the night air spilling in warm and thick with cicadas. Gravel crunched under their sneakers as they stepped out, the porch light casting a steady glow across the drive.

Judy turned the keys once in her hand, the old V charm glinting before she held them out to Sera. “Here,” she said, her husky voice soft but certain. “Keep ‘em. I trust you won’t take Sandra on any joyrides until your mom and I say you’re ready to be out on your own.”

Sera took them carefully, her grin tugging wide as she curled her fingers around the ring. “Promise,” she said, the word bright and certain.

The charm swung once between them before she slipped it back into her hoodie pocket.

The porch light stretched long shadows across the gravel, and beyond the windows the house glowed warm, the shape of a family waiting inside.

They’d made it halfway across the gravel when Sera’s voice broke the night, quiet but clear. “Hey, Mama.”

Judy slowed, the porch light catching in her hair as she turned. “Yeah, mi cielo?”

Sera shifted her weight, her fingers wrapped tight around the keys in her hoodie pocket.
Her freckles glowed faint in the light as she looked down, then back up at her mama. “I’m happy you and Mom adopted me. I’m not even sure if I’d ever have a day like this without you two making sure I had a chance.”

For a moment Judy just stood there, the cicadas filling the space between them. Then she stepped closer, her hand lifting to cup the side of Sera’s face, thumb brushing along her cheek. Her brown eyes shone in the porch light, steady and warm.

“You gave us just as much, mi cielo,” she said, her husky voice catching at the edges.
“We wanted a family, but you’re the one who made us one. Don’t forget that.”

Sera blinked fast, her grin breaking crooked as she leaned into the touch. “Still feels like I got the better end of the deal.”

Judy laughed softly, pressing her forehead to hers for a breath. “Trust me we all did.”

The porch light hummed above them, steady as the glow from the windows waiting just a few steps away.

The door eased open on a wash of light and the scent of coffee lingering from earlier. Inside, the living room was settled into its late-evening quiet, every corner touched with its own rhythm.

Sandra sat cross-legged in front of Echo, a notebook balanced on her knees, her pencil moving in slow, thoughtful lines. The record player sat idle for now, its lid open, faint scratches glinting in the lamp glow.

Velia’s drone rested in her dock by the wall, her gold pulse dim but steady, like the soft glow of a lamp holding its place in the room.

On the couch, Valerie was sprawled sideways, one arm draped over the backrest, a book open in her hand. The ink along her forearm caught the lamplight as she turned a page, emerald eyes flicking up just briefly at the sound of the door.

In the chair nearby, Vicky leaned back with one ankle crossed over the other, her holopad glowing faint as she scrolled through lines of text, her hazel eyes narrowing in quiet focus.

The house felt full but peaceful, the kind of scene that hummed with comfort rather than noise.

Judy stepped inside first, holding the door long enough for Sera to slip through. The keys jingled once in her hoodie pocket before she nudged the door closed behind her.

Sandra looked up from her notebook, a smile tugging soft across her lips. “Hey…you’re back.”

Sera’s grin bloomed, bright as ever, freckles catching in the warm light. “The movie was great. And so was dinner.”

Valerie set her book down on her lap, her smirk easing into something gentler. “Good. Then I’d say we did alright with your day, Starshine.”

Sera flopped down beside Sandra, bumping her shoulder lightly as she peeked at the notebook. “Still writing?”

Sandra closed it halfway, her cheeks pinking. “Just a few lines. Nothing finished yet.”

“You’ll have to read it to me tomorrow,” Sera whispered, slipping the Racer’s keys deeper into her hoodie pocket before leaning into her side.

Sandra nodded, her smile small but certain. “Tomorrow.”

On the couch, Valerie slipped a bookmark between the pages and set her book aside.
She stretched her arms overhead with a soft groan, then let them fall across the backrest, her emerald eyes drifting toward her daughter. “Don’t think I’ve ever seen you sit still this long after cake.”

Sera laughed, muffled against Sandra’s shoulder. “Guess turning sixteen makes me wiser.”

“Wiser,” Judy echoed, her husky voice wry as she sank into the couch beside Valerie. She tipped her head against her wife’s shoulder, her lotus-and-rose necklace catching in the lamplight. “We’ll see how long that lasts.”

Vicky chuckled quietly from her chair, setting her holopad down on the armrest. “At least she looks happy. That’s more than enough for one day.”

Velia’s glow pulsed faintly in agreement from her dock, warm and steady, like she was listening even in her rest mode.

The house settled around them, the hum of cicadas outside mixing with the faint creak of the floorboards, the kind of quiet that came only when everyone was home, safe, and full.

Valerie reached for Judy’s hand, threading their fingers together, while across the room
Sera tucked closer to Sandra, the keys still a weight in her pocket and the night stretching wide around them.

The lake lapped soft against the dock outside, the porch light hummed, and the Alvarez home folded into the calm of evening, each heartbeat slowing, each smile lingering, each promise of tomorrow held close.

Valerie shifted on the couch, her thumb brushing lightly over Judy’s knuckles as she glanced toward the girls on the rug. Sera’s head rested against Sandra’s shoulder now, eyes half-lidded but still glowing with that birthday light.

Valerie’s voice came quiet, meant for the room but softer than the hum of the porch lamp outside. “These are the nights we keep,” she said, emerald eyes lingering on her daughter. “Doesn’t matter what the world throws tomorrow we’ll always have this.”

Sera lifted her head just enough to catch her mom’s gaze, the Racer’s keys clinking faintly as her hand shifted in her pocket. She smiled, sleepy but sure. “I know.”

Judy squeezed Valerie’s hand, leaning into her shoulder, while Sandra tucked the notebook against her chest, her cheeks warm in the glow.

Vicky shifted in her chair, setting her holopad aside, her hazel eyes moving from Valerie and
Judy to the girls, then to Velia’s soft golden pulse across the wall. She let out a quiet breath, one that carried the weight of contentment more than words ever could.

The room held steady in that moment, lamplight soft across old wood and familiar faces, the lakehouse breathing with the comfort of family. Conversation fell into a gentle lull, the kind that didn’t need filling, only shared glances, tired smiles, and the warmth of being together.

The night pressed on outside, the lake whispering against the dock. Inside, the Alvarez family stayed wrapped in that stillness, holding fast to the kind of peace they had built together, and would carry forward tomorrow.