“Thanks, Rubin.”
“Are you going to take my advice?”
My eyelids drift shut again. I fight to open my eyes. “Yes. After…”
* * *
It’s gone ten when I wake. I’m alone in my room. I sit up and rub my eyes. My gaze falls on the artwork on my drafting table. The drawing I’d been working on is now fully inked, and there’s a Post-it Note pressed over the top corner. I go to my desk so I can read it.
Email the publishing house. You’re welcome, the greatest brother in the world.
I lean against the desk as I stifle a soft laugh. I really do have the best brother I could ever have wanted.
12
STEFAN
The kitchen light is on when I get home from The Library. Although I’m tired, a smile graces my lips as I open the door, hoping to find Quinn.
“Hi.” Beau is sitting at the table, nursing what looks like a mug of hot chocolate. “We need to talk.”
“Don’t you have work in a few hours?”
“Yes.”
“Then you should be asleep.”
Beau shakes his head. “I couldn’t while there were bad feelings between us. Sit?”
I sit opposite him and loosen my tie.
“I’m sorry. You caught me off guard with what you’d found out about Mum and Dad, and I took it out on you. I shouldn’t have done.”
I incline my head. “I said things I regret too. Go to bed.”
Beau gives me a withering look. “Don’t try your Dom voice on me. You know it doesn’t work.”
“Does Fraser know you’re down here?”
“Low blow.” He sighs. “Yes, he does. I’m not sure who I’m angrier at—Dad for lying or Mum for replacing us.” He looks through the window. Not that there’s much to see beyond the soft glow of the streetlight outside. “I’m not naive. I know she left to start over and that she’d likely meet someone else. But hearing it, knowing that for sure, knowing she has more kids, it hurts.”
“I know.”
“I’d given up on Mum because she’d clearly given up on us.” Beau stands and starts to pace. “But now I’m doubting everything. What if she did try to keep in touch and Dad blocked her? What if she wrote and he recognised her writing and threw the letters away?”
I frown. “Do you really believe that?”
He shrugs. “I don’t know. After all the second chances I’ve given Dad, I shouldn’t, but the thought keeps nagging away at me. What if she tried and thought we didn’t want to hear from her?” He shakes his head. “Not that it would change the fact that she left us in the first place. I was so angry at her for not taking us with her.”
“Me too.”
“I know we were little shits around that time, but we were lost, angry, and afraid. Surely, she knew that?” He sets the mug down and clenches his fists. “I can’t forgive her for leaving like that, Stefan. I can’t forgive her for giving up on us.”
“What does that mean?” I ask quietly.
He looks into my eyes. “That I don’t want to see her any more than you want to see Dad. But I also want answers.” He grimaces. “Those are pretty incompatible thoughts, aren’t they?”
I’m cold all over. There’s a heaviness in the pit of my stomach that’s impossible to ignore. “IfI reach out to her, I can ask her any questions you’ve got. You don’t have to see her if you don’t want to.”
