episode 15

Family events are predictable.

But only if you account for their eccentricities.

And with my family? Eccentricity is standard.

Today, I’m lurking. Not disappearing entirely—just… minimized. Shadow mode engaged.

The twins are perched on my shoulders like tiny, judgmental observers. Persephone is already doodling me as a ninja in her sketchbook; Hades is quietly noting down details about my posture.

“Hi,” Persephone says, waving.

“Hades says you’re more efficient than the real ninja,” she adds.

I nod. “Noted.”

The twins always know exactly what to say to make me smile without speaking.

We arrive at my oldest sister Terry’s fashion studio. Terry is busy coordinating a photo shoot for her new line, Damien hovering nearby with measured calm.

Terry spots me immediately.

“Beckett!” she calls, rushing over with her usual exuberance. “Look at you! Still lurking in shadows, I see?”

I adjust my mask and gloves, invisible to the untrained eye.

“You know me,” I mutter. “Efficiency.”

She laughs, unconcerned. “We’ll have none of that today. Come see the studio!”

Inside, the walls are lined with mood boards, sketches, and racks of clothing. My cousins’ artwork and designs hang everywhere, each piece polished and vibrant.

“And thanks to you,” Terry says, looping me into a hug, “all of this graphic design came together beautifully. I don’t know what we’d do without your ninja magic in the background.”

I blush faintly behind my mask. “It’s… minimal work. Mostly adjustments and cleanup.”

“Oh, sure,” Terry laughs, “minimal work that makes me look like a genius in front of clients.”

My cousins arrive, each greeting me with quiet affection.

“Beckett!” Claire says, adjusting her glasses. “We missed you since the last time we saw you was at the baby shower. The kids asked about their favorite uncle. They want to see you more.”

I glance at the my many neices and nephews and younger cousins, who nod sagely.

“Hi, Uncle Beckett!” One of them calls.

“Hades too,” he adds, deadpan as always.

I wave, heart warmed. Even while lurking in shadows, I am always included. Always loved. Always welcome.

A friend of a cousin—someone from the art world—approaches, whispering to the other friend:

“Is that… Beckett? The one who helped with the studio graphics? He’s… really attractive even with that mask and gloves of his.”

The other nods, eyes wide. “And mysterious. Like a shadowy ninja.”

I disappear slightly behind a mannequin. Perfect.

The day progresses. I adjust files, tweak designs, and remain largely invisible. Yet, everywhere I look, someone is grateful. Someone notices. Someone admires.

It’s humbling. And exhausting. In a quiet, satisfying way.

Finally, my phone buzzes. A message from Diana:

Diana: You’ve been lurking too long. Time for sunlight. Contractually obligated.

I glance at the the kids. They nod. One of them waggles her eyebrows and covers her mouth in amusement as one of the other kids said: “You need vitamin D, Uncle Beckett.”

Another one adds: “Also, humans tend to combust if you stay hidden too long.”

I sigh. The contract is the contract.

Outside, the sun is low in the sky. Gentle. Forgiving.

I adjust my trench coat, sunglasses, and gloves and surgical mask.

And step into the light.

The air feels different. Fresh. Slightly terrifying.

Terry claps her hands. “See? Not so bad!” Even Damien needs fresh air after a night of well you know how it is with meetings heh.

Claire waves from the patio. “You look… normal-ish.”

I allow a small nod.

The twins skip ahead. “Watch out for sudden flashes of daylight!” Persephone jokes.

Hades mutters: “You’ll survive father else mother dearest will make you live for her and us heh.”

I smile faintly, walking with them.

Sunlight or no sunlight, the world outside is chaotic. Stupid. Loud. And full of people who make mistakes without realizing it.

Inside this chaos, my family is always waiting. Always patient. Always loving.

And even when I lurk in the shadows, I know I belong.

Later, at the family café meetup, someone mentions the baby shower again.

“Beckett was there,” a cousin whispers. “He didn’t even speak much… but everyone noticed him. He’s… enigmatic.”

“Like a ninja,” someone adds.

I adjust my mask, hiding the faint blush behind it.

Yes. I am still in the shadows. But I am never invisible to them.

And as the twins tug my hand back toward the house, I realize:

Sunlight is temporary. Shadows are comfortable.

But love, admiration, and belonging?

That lasts.