Chapter 134 Loved Before I Knew Her

Chapter 134 Loved Before I Knew Her
Penny POV

Paint splatters across my arm before I even get the roller fully loaded, and Maren laughs so hard she nearly drops her own brush.

"Okay, that's definitely going to stain," she says, grinning. "Lily's going to think we did that on purpose."

"Lily would probably love it more if we did," I admit, wiping uselessly at the pale yellow smear now decorating my sleeve.

We're supposed to be at the police station in a few hours to hear whatever Karen has to say, and neither of us has mentioned it once since we started this project, both silently agreeing without saying so out loud that today, this one Saturday morning, we needed something normal. Something that wasn't investigation updates, threatening texts, or mysteries about who our mothers really were to each other.

So we're painting Lily's room instead, transforming one whole wall into a bright dinosaur mural at her very specific, very detailed request, complete with a green stegosaurus she insisted absolutely had to have "extra spikes, more than regular dinosaurs get."

"This is actually really fun," Maren says, stepping back to study our work. "I don't think I've ever done anything like this before. Painting a kid's room. Being part of something this domestic."

"Never?" I glance over at her, surprised.

"Growing up, it was just my mom and me, moving around a lot," she says, dipping her brush again. "Never really had a permanent place long enough to paint dinosaurs on a wall. I used to see families doing stuff like this and wonder what it would feel like."

Something about the quiet honesty in her voice makes me set my roller down for a second. "How does it feel? Now that you're actually doing it?"

Maren's quiet for a moment, working carefully around one of the stegosaurus spikes. "Terrifying, honestly. Good terrifying. Like I finally got something I always wanted, and now I'm scared of somehow messing it up before I've even fully gotten used to having it."

"You're not going to mess it up," I say firmly. "Lily already decided you're the fun aunt, remember? That's not a title she hands out lightly."

Maren laughs, but something softer settles behind her eyes right after. "Can I tell you something? Something I've been wanting to say since I first showed up at the house that morning."

"Of course."

"I think part of why I settled into this family so fast, faster than probably makes sense, considering I only found out you all existed a few weeks ago, is because of you." She glances at me, brush pausing mid-stroke. "I watched the way you talked about Jake, about Lily, about this whole messy, complicated situation, and I could tell you already loved this family completely before you even knew I existed. You built something real here before I ever showed up to be part of it. That made it so much easier walking in, because the foundation was already solid. I wasn't trying to build a family from scratch with strangers. I was adding myself to something that already worked."

Something in my chest goes warm and a little tearful, hearing that. "I didn't do anything special. I just showed up and kept showing up."

"That's the special part, Penny." Maren sets her brush down, turning to face me fully. "Most people don't do that. Most people run the second things get hard, the second there's real risk involved. You didn't. You stayed through the video scandal, through Jake's dad's arrest, through every single scary thing that's happened since. That's nothing. That's everything, actually."

I don't quite know how to respond to that, so I just pull her into a hug instead, paint-covered arms and all, both of us laughing when we pull back and realize we've now transferred yellow paint onto each other's shirts too.

We keep working through the afternoon, adding a small triceratops near the closet, a splash of glittery green Lily specifically requested for "sparkle grass," and by the time we finish, the room looks completely transformed, bright and joyful in a way that feels like exactly the right thing to give a six-year-old whose whole world's been shaken up these last few weeks.

"She's going to lose her mind," Maren says, admiring the finished wall. "This is genuinely the best thing I've done in years."

"She really is," I agree, smiling despite the exhaustion settling into my paint-stiff arms.

We're cleaning up brushes in the bathroom sink, comfortable silence settling between us, when Maren's phone buzzes on the counter. She glances at it, and I watch her whole posture change instantly, shoulders going rigid.

"Maren? What is it?"

"It's from the detective's office," she says slowly, reading. "They're moving the meeting with Karen up. Says she's insisting on talking sooner, says her condition's still fragile, and she's scared she might not get another clear window to say what she needs to say."

My stomach drops, the peaceful, painted afternoon suddenly feeling very far away.

"How soon?" I ask.

"An hour," Maren says, already reaching for her keys. "Penny, we need to go now."

We rush to clean up, barely finishing before we're both in the car, still smelling faintly of paint, hearts pounding with the same anxious energy that's been sitting underneath this whole calm Saturday the entire time.

My phone buzzes as Maren pulls out of the driveway, and I check it fast, expecting Jake, expecting an update.

Instead, it's an email, sender listed simply as K. Reyes, subject line: four words that steal every ounce of air straight out of my lungs.

Karen changed her story.

I open it with shaking hands, and the single line inside makes the whole car seem to tilt sideways around me.

She's no longer saying it was an accident that put her in the hospital. She's saying someone tried to silence her before she could tell you the truth, and that same person already knows you're both on your way here right now.