Empire of Nothing

Nova woke up to the smell of pancakes, the sound of laughter, and a pillow on her face.

She blinked once, then groaned.

Jules was snoring beside her. Troy was drooling. Zane was upside down on the couch like gravity had given up on him during the night.

It was still early, sunlight creeping in through the curtains, the TV still on — frozen on the pause screen from some horror movie they never finished.

Nova sat up slowly, yawning. Her hair was a mess, but for once… she didn't care.

And then she heard it:

A woman's voice, humming in the kitchen.

She froze.

That could only mean one thing.

"ZANE ALEXANDER ROSS, ARE THESE YOUR BOXERS IN THE HALLWAY?!"

Zane shot up from the couch like he'd been electrocuted. "MOM?!"

Nova stared, wide-eyed. Jules was already laughing.

Zane scrambled upright, pulling a blanket over his head. "Abort! Retreat! No one breathe!"

Too late.

Footsteps approached, and a second later, a woman with shoulder-length chestnut hair and a power-walk made entirely of mom energy marched into the living room with a spatula in one hand and a mug in the other.

"Oh," she said, spotting Nova. "You must be Nova."

Nova stood awkwardly, brushing popcorn out of her hoodie. "Um… yeah."

Zane's mom smiled. "You're even prettier than Zane described."

Zane choked. "What?! I didn't— I mean—"

"You didn't shut up about her for two weeks," his mom said cheerfully, sipping her coffee. "It was adorable."

Nova blinked.

Jules looked like she was living for this moment.

Troy whispered, "We're witnessing history."

Zane turned red. "Mom. Please. Stop."

But she was already walking over to Nova, giving her a once-over — not judgmental, just amused.

"I like you," she said warmly. "Good head on your shoulders. Confident. Doesn't let these morons push her around."

Nova managed a small smile. "I try."

Zane's mom winked. "You two would make a cute couple, just saying."

Zane collapsed dramatically onto the floor. "I'm dead. This is my funeral."

Nova laughed. "It's okay. He's not my type."

"Ouch," Zane muttered into the carpet.

But his mom was still smiling. "You're welcome here anytime, Nova. You made him… less annoying."

Nova flushed slightly, surprised at the warmth in her chest.

"Thanks, Mrs. Ross."

"Call me Lila. Now come eat before the pancakes run away."

Breakfast was loud and chaotic — Zane dropping plates, Troy singing, and Jules trying to convince everyone she was a culinary genius.

Nova soaked it all in like sunlight.

But eventually… it was time to go.

She packed her bag, hugged Jules goodbye, and high-fived Troy.

Zane walked her to the gate.

"Sorry about my mom," he muttered. "She's... enthusiastic."

"She's funny," Nova said. "And nice."

Zane smiled, then glanced at her sideways. "For the record… you're not not my type."

Nova raised an eyebrow. "Zane."

"Okay, okay," he said, hands up. "I'll shut up before you punch me."

She smirked and turned to leave. "Smart choice."

Back home, the silence was thick.

She stepped through the front door and was met with nothing.

No voices. No footsteps.

Just Darian on the stairs, watching her.

He didn't say a word.

Didn't need to.

His expression said enough: You're back. We noticed. We care… we just don't know how to say it yet.

Nova nodded at him once, tossed her bag onto the couch, and walked toward the kitchen like she owned the place.

Because today?

She felt like she finally could.