77

77
ELLA
My first introduction to Quincy’s family was a memorable one—especially for someone used to having a house to herself. As they scrambled down the stairs, some of the boys lifted him into the air, and in the blink of an eye, he disappeared into the chatter and excitement.
The girls, on the other hand, led me toward a room, doing their best not to overwhelm me with questions.
Once we reached an empty room, they apologized for the state of the place and explained that they hadn’t expected Quincy to return so early, let alone bring someone with him. As a result, they hadn’t made any effort to make it presentable.
I looked around and chuckled. It seemed perfectly fine to me. There was a bed, a couch, and a vanity table. The only thing out of place was the dust—which was understandable, given that the room looked unused.
They excused themselves, and I was grateful for a moment to myself. But a few seconds later, I heard a knock on the door. It creaked open, and a girl with blonde hair and striking blue eyes stepped into the room carrying a set of fresh sheets. I hadn’t seen her among the crowd downstairs, but she looked just as excited to meet me as the others had.
“Hi, I’m May. Welcome to the Sevill house. I hope they didn’t overwhelm you with too many questions—they can be... a lot to handle at first,” she said, gently placing the sheets on the sofa.
“Hi May, I’m Ella,” I replied, smiling. “No, they’ve actually been great. I’m excited to be here, so I get how they feel. Thank you for the sheets.”
She smiled warmly and gestured toward the hallway. I could still hear the sounds of multiple conversations, but I couldn’t make out any distinct words.
“Could you step out for a bit so I can clean the room? I’d hate for you to catch something, considering how dusty it is in here,” she said politely.
“Better yet, I could help you clean. We’d finish a lot faster if we worked together,” I offered.
But she shook her head. “What sort of host would I be if I let my guest work on the first day she gets here? Much less clean her own room? I’d have nightmares for days,” she said in an exaggerated tone.
We laughed together.
She had an aura about her—more maternal than the others. She was young, a little older than Quincy if I had to guess, but her eyes held the wisdom of someone who’d been holding things together for a long time. I instantly felt comfortable around her.
Still, I had to remind myself that I had just arrived. It would be a grave mistake to place my trust too easily. I needed time to study this environment and the people in it. I hadn’t even decided if this would be my last stop before heading off to college—so I shouldn’t treat it like home just yet.
“Besides,” she continued, “Eve would never forgive me if I let you stay in here on your first day.”
“Eve…” I echoed, my face twisting into a confused expression.
I couldn’t remember who that was. I’d seen so many people today, and trying to register everyone’s names at once was proving impossible. The name sounded familiar, like something I’d heard in passing, but I couldn’t put a face to it.
I was about to ask for a description when another knock on the door interrupted my thoughts.
We both turned as a familiar face peeked in—it was the same girl I’d met at the front door. May chuckled as the rest of her stepped into the room.
“Speak of the devil,” she said, turning to me. “Eve will keep you company while I tidy up in here. Don’t let her convince you to do anything you don’t want to.”
“Oh, come on, Aunt May, I’m a good influence,” Eve said with mock innocence.
May shook her head. “If you insist,” she replied, winking at me.
I smiled and followed Eve out of the room, silently wondering just how old May was to be called an ‘aunt.’
“Dinner’s in two hours,” May called after us.
Once outside, Eve welcomed me to the town and began pointing out the rooms, listing who stayed where. When we got to Quincy’s room, I resisted the urge to knock on his door and ask him to come along.
This was his home. He didn’t need a tour—and he was spending time with a family he hadn’t seen in ages. It would be selfish to pull him away from that, and I didn’t mind being shown around.
The house was bigger than I’d imagined, but the moment we stepped through the back door, I knew the garden would become my favorite place.

It had been a week since we arrived, and things were settling into a rhythm. I’d gone from being skeptical, second-guessing the entire decision, and loathing the process—to easing into it. Quincy’s family turned out to be far more welcoming than I had imagined.
I still struggled to remember everyone’s names—every time I thought I’d met them all, a new group appeared, and the introductions would start all over again.
Sharing a living space with so many people was an experience I had to adapt to quickly. I learned to share dinner at the table, listening to tales of their day, their mischief, their memories.
Sometimes, I craved solitude, choosing to eat in my room or skip the meal altogether. I worried that doing so might come off as rude, but no one ever mentioned it the next day. Quincy didn’t say anything either, and I took comfort in that silence.
Quincy and I rarely saw each other. He’d check on me before sunrise, let me know he had meetings or errands, then disappear for the rest of the day.
When he returned at night, I often pretended to be asleep just to avoid conversation. Other times, I humored him and answered his questions about how my day had gone.
He seemed to be running on a tight schedule, and I didn’t pry. Whatever he chose to share was enough. I had worries of my own.