Page 75 of Joker

Problem. A serious one.

The crayon shifts in my fingers, and Lexi leans into my shoulder just enough to see the page better. The contact is casual, thoughtless, warm.

That’s new too.

The first day, she looked at me like I might be a monster wearing boots and a beard. Now she climbs into my space like she’s decided I’ve been cleared by whatever private little committee lives in her head.

I should probably be more cautious about that.

Instead, I hear myself say, “You know, if you keep bossing me around like this, I’m charging for labor.”

She looks up at me, scandalized. “No.”

“No?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

She considers that for exactly one second. “Because you like me.”

I stop.

The kid goes right back to the coloring page like she didn’t just say the quiet part out loud in the middle of the common room.

From the couch, I hear Gio cackle. Amy makes a choking sound into her hand. Casey is openly grinning now.

I look down at Lexi. “That so?”

She nods without hesitation. “Yeah.”

The confidence in it is what gets me. Not hope. Not uncertainty.

Just absolute toddler certainty that this is a fact and everyone involved should move on accordingly.

I drag a hand over my beard and mutter, “That’s a dangerous attitude to have about people.”

Lexi finally looks up again. “What’s dattitood?”

The three musketeers on the couch break out in laughter.

I glance at the couch. “You three are real helpful.”

Amy shrugs. “You started it.”

Gio, still delighted, says, “It means you’re in trouble.”

Lexi thinks about that, then pats my arm once with all the solemn authority of a tiny queen. “It’s okay, Joker. I save you.”

That’s it. That’s what does it.

I laugh hard enough this time that Blaze, passing through the room toward the kitchen, actually stops and stares. “The hell is happening?” he asks.

“None of your business,” I tell him.

Lexi points at the coloring page. “He bad at coloring.”

Blaze leans over to look. “Yeah, I can see that.”