Oh no. Anxiety explodes through me, and I do my best to communicate a stop stop stop, but his eyes only get brighter. Either he doesn’t notice or he doesn’t care.

My mom’s gaze whips over from where she’s mopping up coffee. “You’ve been to my sister’s house?”

My sister. I don’t know if I’m ever going to get used to hearing my mother casually say those words.

“We don’t mean ‘witch’ as a derogatory term,” Simon says quickly.

“Of course not,” my mom says, but her eyes are on Mason.

“Yeah. It’s a cool place. I went with Simon.” Mason gestures smoothly to the man next to him, then looks at me pointedly. “How about you?” His voice is casual, and relief spirals through me. He isn’t going to out me. At least, not on purpose.

“I went yesterday with my mom,” I say. “But I didn’t get to see inside.”

“Excuse me,” my mom says. “Do you two know each other?”

“No,” Mason says. “I just, ah, thought of the tree in the yard when you said her name. I… like the willow.”

It’s his first stumble, and my mom’s eyebrows shoot up like rockets. I like the willow. A tiny part of me is hoping he’s actually referring to me.

Okay, now I’m getting delusional.

“But you, ah, don’t have any connection to it? Outside of…?” My question comes out awkward, and I gesture toward Simon.

Mason shakes his head. “I just went to help out.”

Got it. He doesn’t know my aunt or anything about the house. So what was he doing there, besides stargazing?

“What an incredible property,” Simon says, clapping his hands together. “We had a wonderful tour of it yesterday. And, Mason, I’m glad you brought up the willow, as it was on my list of things to discuss. I’m sure you know all about it, but the roots of willow trees can be so invasive. They just grow and grow—”

“Maybe we should all sit down,” my mother says, her voice strained. Mason and I share a quick glance, and I feel my face flush again. He’s staring at me like I’m the shiniest object in the night sky.

Yes. I’m definitely getting delusional. The fact that I’ve read this boy’s innermost thoughts is clearly messing with my head.

“Great idea,” Simon booms. “And let’s redo our introductions, shall we?” He gestures to the kids. “I’m Simon, and this is Nova and Mason. Nova is my daughter. Mason is new to the family.”

New to the family? What does that mean? I swing my eyes back to Mason, whose posture is suddenly rigid, defensive.