Morning light slanted through the dusty kitchen windows, catching the grease film on the cast-iron stove in a faint rainbow sheen. The coffee had gone from hissing to a low, patient simmer, and the overripe fruit in the wooden bowl had begun to perfume the air with something too sweet, almost cloying. Elara stood at the stove with her back to the table, one hand wrapped around the warm ceramic of her cup, watching the steam rise and curl toward the ceiling.
Behind her, Bryce sat at the worn oak table, his thumb tracing the grain in a slow, deliberate motion. He hadn’t said anything since they’d come down. Neither had she.
Saige sat across from Bryce, her own coffee untouched, the surface still and dark. She’d pulled her long dark hair back into a loose knot, and the morning light caught the pale curve of her throat as she tilted her head, watching her mother move around the stove.
“What happens in there?”
The words landed flat and direct, no preamble, no softening. Saige’s hazel eyes were steady, fixed on Elara’s back, and her fingers rested on the rim of her mug without lifting it.
Elara turned, cup in hand, and crossed to the table. She didn’t rush. The floorboards creaked under her bare feet in the familiar places, and she set the cup down beside Bryce’s before she sat, the warm ceramic settling into the worn grain of the oak. She looked at Bryce. He looked back. It wasn’t a search for permission—it was a shared confirmation, the kind that passed between them without words, the same look they’d exchanged a hundred times across a fence line or a dinner table.
He gave her the smallest nod, his thumb stilling on the wood grain.
“It’s a gathering,” Elara said. “Private. Adult. A few trusted friends.”
“The people who were here last night?”
“Yes.”
Saige glanced toward the window. “Holly.”
“Among others.”
“And the equipment?”
“Gets used.”
Saige’s fingers tightened slightly around the mug.
“By you?”
Elara smiled. “Definitely by me.”
Saige looked at Bryce.
“Him too?”
“Sometimes.”
Bryce picked up his coffee. “Less enthusiastically.”
Elara laughed.
Saige’s mouth twitched despite herself. “And everyone else?”
“Some of them,” Elara said. “Depends what they want.”
“What exactly are they doing?”
Elara took a drink.
“People come over. We eat. Drink. Talk. Sometimes we use the equipment. Sometimes people have sex. Sometimes they don’t. Sometimes they watch.”
Saige stared at her.
Elara held the look.
“So it’s basically a sex club.”
“No.”
“Sounds like one.”
Bryce shook his head. “Nobody buys their way in.”
Saige looked at him.
“We know everyone who comes,” he said. “They’re friends. That’s the difference.”
Saige looked back at Elara. “And they just… tell you what they want?”
“Sometimes.”
“And you help them?”
“If they ask.”
Saige sat back.
For a moment nobody spoke.
“You said the barn was closed during private gatherings.”
“Yes.”
Saige nodded slowly. “So you weren’t worried I’d find the bar.”
Elara smiled. “The bar wasn’t high on the list.”
Saige finally picked up her coffee and took a drink.
“The people who come. Are they all from the old group?”
“No,” Elara said.
“Holly obviously.”
“Holly’s the only one.”
Saige looked down into her mug.
“I knew you and Dad had your arrangements.”
Elara said nothing.
“And I knew about you.” Saige looked at Bryce.
Bryce leaned back slightly.
“You asked enough questions at the time.”
“I didn’t get many answers.”
“You got the answers you needed.”
Saige gave him a look. “According to you.”
Elara smiled into her coffee.
Saige’s expression changed.
“Did you build all this because you were unhappy?”
Elara’s smile disappeared.
“No,” Elara said.
Saige frowned.
“We weren’t unhappy.”
“The barn started with us,” Elara said. “Long before anyone else came through those doors.”
Bryce’s fingers rested around his mug.
“We kept making things,” Elara continued. “Trying things. Then eventually we decided we missed having other people around.”
“Like before.”
“Not exactly.”
Saige waited.
Elara glanced at Bryce.
“What we had before belonged to that time,” she said. “This is ours.”
Saige’s eyes moved between them.
“And Holly?”
“Holly is Holly.”
That earned a small laugh.
“You know what I mean.”
“I do.” Elara took another drink. “She was someone we already trusted. That made her an easy person to ask.”
“And the others?”
“Luke and Erin came with Holly. The rest came later.”
Saige rubbed her thumb along the mug.
“You really are okay with it?”
Elara raised an eyebrow. “You saw Holly walk out of the barn carrying her shoes yesterday morning.”
“That wasn’t exactly what I meant.”
“I know.”
Saige looked at Bryce. “You don’t get jealous?”
“Sometimes.”
Elara glanced at him.
Saige did too. “Really?”
Bryce shrugged. “I’m human.”
“What do you do about it?”
“Talk.”
“That’s it?”
“Usually.”
Saige looked at Elara.
“Same answer,” she said.
Saige sat quietly for a moment, then looked toward the window again.
“Can I see it?”
Elara followed her gaze.
“The barn,” Saige said. “When nobody’s there.”
Bryce set his mug down.
“I’m not asking to go to one of your gatherings. I just want to see what’s actually in there.”
Neither answered immediately.
“I’ve already seen half of it from outside,” Saige added. “The curtains. The bar. The mark on everything.”
“The mark isn’t on everything,” Bryce said.
“Nearly.”
Elara smiled.
“I didn’t even walk down there last night,” Saige said. “I respected the rule. So show me when it’s empty.”
Elara looked at Bryce.
This time Bryce’s expression changed before hers did.
“There’s no reason not to,” he said.
Saige blinked. “Really?”
“It’s empty.”
Elara looked at him for another moment, then back at Saige.
“You might see things you don’t particularly want explained.”
Saige smiled. “I grew up with you.”
“Fair point.”
“And I’ve already seen Bryce’s horse toy.”
Bryce stared at her.
Elara almost choked on her coffee.
Saige grinned.
“When did you see that?”
“It was not well hidden.”
Bryce looked at Elara.
“Don’t look at me.”
“You put it away.”
“I did put it away.”
“Apparently not well.”
Saige laughed. “Relax. I didn’t touch it.”
“Thank Christ for that.”
Elara was still laughing when she stood and carried her mug to the sink.
“We’ve got work first.”
Saige groaned. “Of course we do.”
“Horses don’t care about your curiosity.”
Bryce stood and picked up his coffee.
“After we’re done,” he said.
Saige looked at him. “You’ll actually show me?”
“I said I would.”
“The whole thing?”
Bryce paused at the kitchen door.
“You wanted to see the barn empty.”
“Yes.”
“Then we’ll show you the barn empty.”
He walked outside.
Saige watched him go, then turned to Elara.
“He’s going to regret that.”
Elara picked up Saige’s untouched toast and took a bite.
“Probably.”
Saige smiled.
“When do we start?”
Elara nodded toward the door.
“Now.”