Once I was dressed, I clicked my thigh holsters into place, then slid my sais into their snug home. I was getting quite used to always having them strapped to me. It was comforting. With my phone slipped into my side pocket, I grabbed two hair ties and headed out the door. I heard voices carrying up the stairwell, but their words weren’t clear. Anxiety rippled through me. Stay calm, Frankie. Everest is waiting on you. I took a deep breath, then started tying my hair back into two French braids, both to help calm my anxiety but also to secure my hair out of my way.

The second my feet hit the bottom step, I heard Easton’s boisterous voice yell out, “Morning, Frankie!”

I smiled and waved to everyone who was gathered in the open living room-dining area combo. Yet it was who didn’t greet me that made me frown. I glanced around in confusion, scanning the now secured outdoor area for them.

Bentley cleared his throat. “Downstairs with the others, all curled around Chutney.”

“That’s convenient sometimes,” I said with a chuckle as I turned to find him sitting in the chair by the front window. He was suspiciously close to Emersyn who sat on the ledge in front of the hearth. “Chutney’s condition change or they just like to be near her?”

“They like to be near her, but when the vibes are in shambles, it makes them gravitate toward her even more.” He gave me a small smile. “I wouldn’t be offended. It’s a side effect of The Fool Card.”

“Oh, I’m not upset. If someone needs them for emotional support, then I’m glad they’re here.” With that, I turned to get a proper look at the vibe of the house. In shambles looked about right. I cleared my throat. “How’s everyone doing today?”

A chorus of groans, grumbles, and growls echoed around the room.

There were no smiles. No sparkling or mischievous eyes. No one was talking. No one seemed to even be looking at anyone else, though not because they were angry. The sharpness in the air was panic and despair. Tenn sat in his seat at the head of the long wooden dinner table, his back to the bay window behind him. His white angel wings popped out and that golden armor appeared. His long, disheveled black hair was suddenly braided back on the top almost like a Viking would wear. The gold bands on his arm were flashing. As the light went out, so did his angelic appearance—that appearance really looked more like a Haven than a Tennessee. Yet he didn’t notice. He sat there staring ahead while those mismatched eyes saw nothing. His gaze was locked on nothing and somewhat blank. In his hands he held the wooden puzzle pig. His fingertips looked a little raw and red, like he’d been working on our puzzle for hours.