The kitchen smelled like home in a way Rowan hadn't felt in weeks—warm, comforting, and alive. She stirred the last spoonful of her father's kimchi rice into the pan, the tangy aroma blending with the golden, crispy scent of her mother's fried chicken cooling on the counter.
Charlie leaned against the doorway, arms crossed, watching quietly. "Smells good," he said, his voice low but approving.
Rowan laughed softly, the sound unguarded for the first time in days. "You haven't even tasted it yet. Wait until you try the kimchi rice. My dad would be proud."
Charlie chuckled. "I'm sure he would be. And your mom too… this smells like a feast."
She brought both meals over to the small dining table to the side of the kitchen. Charlie had already set it. He gestured for her to sit. "So, tell me… this is your family's recipe?"
Rowan nodded, feeling a lump in her throat. "Yeah. My mom's fried chicken, my dad's kimchi rice. They… they cooked together a lot. Always somehow blended both sides of who they were. I guess… I wanted to do the same tonight."
Charlie smiled softly, a trace of melancholy in his eyes. "Sounds like they'd be proud of you. You're doing something good here."
They ate in comfortable silence at first, the clinking of utensils the only sound. Rowan watched him, memorizing the way he relaxed in his own home, the quiet strength in his presence. It was grounding—human—and something she hadn't realized she desperately needed.
"You know," Charlie said finally, leaning back slightly, "I've seen a lot of kids come through here. You… you handle things differently. You're quiet, thoughtful. But there's… something else. Something that makes people calm around you."
Rowan paused, spoon halfway to her mouth. 'Don't tell him about the magic—not yet.' She forced herself to shrug not wanting to say a lie but not wanting to admit the truth yet either.
Charlie's gaze softened. "You don't have to explain. I just wanted you to know I notice, and that it matters."
She smiled, feeling a warmth blossom in her chest. 'This is normal. This is… family.' "Thanks, Charlie," she said quietly. "For… everything. For letting me stay. For being patient."
He nodded, reaching across the table to give her hand a quick squeeze. "Hey. You're part of this little town now. And while you're here, you're family. That's it. Simple."
She gave him a smile before returning to her meal that reminded her of her old home. Rowan took a slow bite of the kimchi rice, savoring the familiar flavors that reminded her of her parents. Then a piece of fried chicken, crisp and salty, the taste grounding her in the present, in the safety of this moment.
For a few quiet hours, the world outside—the pull of her bond, the supernatural tension, the fate of vampires and fae—didn't exist. There was only the warmth of the kitchen, the aroma of food, and the sense that, even in this strange new world, she could find pieces of home.
And for the first time in weeks, Rowan let herself feel it: that maybe, just maybe, she could belong somewhere again.