Candice stood still in the hallway, Sam's fingers still loosely around her wrist.
The others hadn't gone far.
Theodore leaned against the banister of the stairs, arms crossed, watching her with that quiet, assessing look he always wore when something mattered.
Joshua stood a little behind him, hands in his pockets, jaw tight.
Derick was already halfway into the living room but hadn't fully turned away. Richard lingered near the kitchen doorway.
William stayed closest to the front door, as if making sure it stayed locked. David was the only one who hadn't moved at all — he remained near the wall, silver-blue eyes fixed on her like he was still deciding whether to believe she was really here.
Sam's thumb brushed once over the inside of her wrist.
"Go upstairs," he said quietly. "We'll talk later."
Candice nodded.
She didn't trust her voice yet.
She climbed the stairs slowly. Every step felt heavier than the last. Behind her she heard low voices starting — Theodore's measured tone, Joshua's sharper one, Derick muttering something under his breath. She didn't catch the words, but she felt the weight of them all the same.
Her old room was exactly as she'd left it
She was all excitement while on the road but as soon as she saw her brothers, she suddenly had a quick mood swing.
The bed was made. The curtains were half-drawn. A faint layer of dust sat on the desk, but nothing had been moved. The framed photo of the eight of them from years ago still sat on the nightstand, slightly tilted.
She closed the door and leaned against it for a long moment, eyes shut.
Home.
The word still felt dangerous.
A soft knock came less than ten minutes later.
She opened the door to find David standing there, hands in the pockets of his hoodie, expression unreadable.
"They sent me," he said. "To check if you needed anything."
Candice almost smiled. "Did they?"
David's mouth twitched. "I volunteered." the only brother that loved being in my space, I know him well.
He stepped inside without waiting for permission and closed the door behind him. The room suddenly felt smaller.
"You look tired," he said.
"Long flight."
He nodded, then glanced at the photo on the nightstand. His gaze lingered.
"You kept that."
"I never threw it away."
David was quiet for a second. Then he looked at her properly.
"Sam's not the only one who meant what he said downstairs."
Candice's pulse jumped.
"I know. And I swear I won't do it again."
David stepped closer. Not enough to touch her, but close enough that she had to tilt her head slightly to meet his eyes.
"We waited," he said, voice low. "Longer than we should have. Longer than we wanted to. Don't make us do it again."
She swallowed.
"I won't."
David studied her face for another moment, then gave a small nod, as if filing the promise away somewhere important. He turned toward the door, then paused with his hand on the handle.
"Dinner's in an hour. Theodore's cooking. He said if you don't come down he'll bring it up himself."
A beat.
"And Candice…"
She looked at him.
"Welcome home."
The door clicked shut behind him.
Candice sat on the edge of the bed and stared at the closed door for a long time.
Outside, the rain kept falling.
Inside, seven pairs of eyes were waiting.
Candice changed into something softer — a black sweater and jeans that highlighted her curves— and went downstairs just before the hour was up.
The dining room was already full.
Theodore stood at the head of the table, sleeves rolled up, plating the last of the food. Dad and Mum were always not around so either Sam or Theo usually sits at the head of the table.
Joshua was setting glasses down with more force than necessary. Derick leaned against the sideboard, arms crossed. Richard and William sat on opposite sides of the table, both watching the doorway. David was already in his chair. Sam sat at the far end, elbows on the table, eyes on her the second she appeared.
No one spoke.
Candice took the empty seat between William and David. The moment she sat, the air seemed to tighten.
Theodore placed a plate in front of her without comment. Roast chicken, potatoes, greens. Simple. The kind of food he used to make when someone was sick or coming home after a long time away.
She murmured a quiet "thank you."
He only nodded and sat down.
For a few minutes the only sounds were cutlery and the soft rain against the windows. Candice could feel every pair of eyes on her in short, careful glances. Like they were afraid looking too long would make her disappear again.
Joshua was the first to break.
"So." His voice was flat. "Are we going to pretend the last two years didn't happen, or are we talking about it?"
Sam's fork paused halfway to his mouth.
Theodore shot Joshua a warning look. "Not at the table."
"Why not?" Joshua didn't back down. "She's here. She's sitting in her old chair. She said she wasn't leaving. So let's hear it."
Candice set her fork down carefully.
"I left because I was insecre and bullied for my weight. I was scared and I didn't want to tell anyone."
Silence.
Derick scoffed under his breath. "You leaving scared everyone."
William's hand flexed on the tablecloth beside hers. He didn't speak, but the muscle in his jaw jumped.
David's voice came quieter. "We weren't angry that you left, Candice. We are angry because you didn't tell us why, and you didn't even text or call us."
She looked around the table.
Seven faces. Seven different versions of the same wound.
Sam finally spoke, voice low and steady.
"You don't get to decide for us what we can handle."
The words landed heavy.
Candice swallowed. "I know that now."
Theodore leaned back in his chair, studying her. "Then stay. Properly this time. No half-measures. No disappearing for weeks when you feel insecure."
She met his eyes.
"I'm not going anywhere."
Something in the room shifted — not relief exactly, but a slow, collective unclenching.
Joshua still looked unconvinced, but he picked up his fork again. Derick stopped glaring at his plate. William's shoulder brushed hers once, deliberate and brief.
Sam's gaze never left her face.
"Good," he said.
They finished the meal in a quieter tension. Not peaceful. Just… contained.
When the plates were cleared, Theodore stood.
"You're on dish duty with me," he said to no one in particular, then glanced at her. "Candice. Stay. The rest of you can go." I pursed my lips.
The others filed out slowly, each of them looking back once before disappearing into the house. Sam was the last. He paused in the doorway, eyes locking with hers for a long second, then left without a word.
Theodore and Candice were alone with the rain and the dirty dishes.
He handed her a towel.
"Don't ever do that again." he asked, voice softer now that the others were gone.
She took the towel.
"i won't, I promise."
He nodded once, turned on the water, and didn't ask again.
But Candice could feel it — the house was still listening.
And so were they.