Chapter 133 Loved Before I Ever Arrived

Chapter 133 Loved Before I Ever Arrived
Penny POV

The hospital makes us wait almost two hours before a nurse finally comes out and tells us Karen's too exhausted to talk tonight, that whatever she needs to say will have to wait until Monday when she's stronger.
Jake takes it harder than I do, pacing the waiting room until Detective Reyes finally convinces him that pushing a recovering patient isn't going to get us answers any faster. We leave frustrated, exhausted, carrying two more days of unanswered questions on top of everything else.
So when Saturday morning arrives with nothing scheduled except waiting, Maren shows up at my door with two gallons of paint and an idea.
"Lily's room needs a refresh," she announces, holding up paint swatches like they're the most important thing in the world right now. "Something that isn't the baby-pink she's clearly outgrown. I thought maybe you'd want to help. Just us. No investigation talk, no phone notifications, just a normal Saturday for once."
I almost say no. There's a part of me that feels guilty spending an entire day on something as simple as paint when Karen's lying in a hospital bed with answers that could change everything. But something in Maren's face, hopeful, a little uncertain, clearly wanting this specific day with me, makes me say yes instead.
We spend the whole morning at the hardware store picking out the perfect shade of green, something dinosaur-adjacent enough to satisfy Lily's very specific taste, and by early afternoon we're both kneeling on drop cloths in her room, rollers in hand, actual laughter filling a space that's been so heavy with fear these last few weeks.
"You've got paint in your hair," I tell her, laughing as she reaches up to fix a strand and only makes it worse.
"You've got some on your face," she shoots back, grinning, and for a stretch of hours it genuinely feels like we're just two people painting a room, nothing more complicated than that.
We work in comfortable silence for a while, the sound of rollers against the wall the only noise, until Maren sets hers down and sits back on her heels, studying me with something thoughtful in her expression.
"Can I say something? Kind of personal?"
"Of course."
"I've been thinking about this a lot since I first came here," she says slowly, picking her words with the same care Jake uses when something matters to him. "About how easy it's been, actually being welcomed into this family. I expected it to be harder. Awkward, maybe, or forced. Everybody performing kindness because it's the polite thing to do with a sister nobody knew existed."
"It hasn't felt forced to me," I say honestly. "You fit here. Lily adores you."
"That's exactly what I mean, though." Maren's eyes get a little glassy. "Penny, you loved this family before you knew I existed. You loved Jake, loved Lily, built a whole life inside these walls long before my name ever came up. And when I did show up, a stranger claiming to be Jake's sister in the middle of the worst week of his life, you didn't treat me like a threat or an inconvenience. You made space immediately. You let me be part of something you'd already worked so hard to build."
My throat tightens, surprised by how much her words land.
"I think that's why it's been easier for me to actually believe I belong here," she continues, voice thick. "Because the person who loves this family the most, who fought hardest to protect it, decided I was worth including without hesitation. That means more than you probably realize."
I set down my own roller, moving to sit beside her on the drop cloth. "You are part of this family, Maren. Genuinely. Not because I decided it or because Jake needed you to be. Because you showed up, over and over, even when things got terrifying. That's what makes someone family. Not blood. Choosing to stay."
She pulls me into a hug, paint-streaked and unglamorous and completely real, and for a moment we just sit there in the half-finished green room, letting something quiet and warm settle between us.
"I never had this growing up," Maren admits softly, pulling back. "A big, messy family that actually shows up for each other. I used to watch other kids at school talk about sibling fights and family dinners, and I'd just feel this hollow space where that was supposed to be. Finding all of you, even in the worst possible circumstances, it's like getting something I stopped believing I'd ever have."
"Well, you've got it now," I say, smiling through the tightness in my throat. "Messy, chaotic, currently under police investigation, but yours."
She laughs, wiping her eyes with the back of a paint-covered hand, smearing green across her cheek in the process, which sends us both into a fresh round of laughter that feels like exactly the release we both needed.
We finish the room just as the sun starts dipping low, standing back to admire the finished walls together, satisfied and exhausted in the best possible way.
"Lily's going to love this," I say.
"I hope so," Maren says, smiling. "I want to give her something good. Something that's just happy, with everything else so heavy right now."
We're cleaning up the drop cloths, paint trays, and brushes when my phone buzzes on the windowsill where I left it hours ago, deliberately silenced for the first peaceful day I've had in weeks.
I almost ignore it. Almost. But something makes me check anyway, and the second I see the screen, the peaceful afternoon shatters completely.
It's from Detective Reyes, sent twenty minutes ago, subject line short enough to stop my heart cold.
Karen's condition changed suddenly this evening. We need everyone at the hospital immediately.
I show it to Maren, whose face drains of color instantly, both of us abandoning the paint supplies exactly where they sit.
"Call Jake," she says, already grabbing her keys. "Now."
I dial with shaking hands, praying he picks up fast, praying whatever's happening to Karen right now isn't the disaster my whole body is already bracing for it to be.