She says she had her once-in-a-lifetime love. That was enough.
And every time she says it, I feel my chest squeeze. Because yeah, it's heartbreakingly sweet... but also? Kinda brutal.
"Where's Sam?"
And like I summoned her by name, there she is—my little sister barreling into the kitchen with her squealy, too-loud, too-excited voice.
"Zachyyy! You're home!"
Before I can even blink, she's in my arms. Sam hugs the way only she can—tight, warm, like she's trying to squeeze all the air out of my lungs but still somehow makes it feel good. My arms go around her automatically, pulling her in.
God, I missed this. For all the ways she drives me crazy, there's nothing in the world like being on the receiving end of her bear hugs.
"I've missed you, angel."
She tips her head back, grinning up at me with those ridiculously bright eyes. "Aw, I've missed you too, big bro." Her grin sharpens, mischief dripping off every word. "But I've missed my Eli even more."
And there it is—the shift.
She scans the room left and right, practically bouncing in place, that wide, glowing smile plastered on her face like she's about to catch him walking through the door any second. She only ever smiles like this when Elijah's name comes up.
That bastard doesn't even know how rare this smile is. How she hoards it for him.
"Where is he, anyway? He came with you, right? Right?"
I hate it. Hate having to puncture that glow. But I can't lie to her either.
"Sorry, angel." I rub her back gently. "Elijah didn't come with me today. He's got stuff to handle—captain duties, hockey things. His schedule's packed."
Her smile drops like someone flipped a switch, and her shoulders slump.
"Lies," she mutters, rolling her eyes. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say he didn't want to come because he knew I'm here." I catch the flicker of hurt in her eyes, sharp and raw.
That one punches me in the chest.
Then, just as fast, she masks it. Straightens, flips those long sandy-blonde curls over her shoulder, and slaps on a fake smile. "Whatever. I'll see him tomorrow then."
Our mom breezes back in before I can say anything, setting plates down on the island, the smell of baked ziti filling the whole kitchen. "Food's ready, grab a seat before it gets cold," she says, sliding one plate in front of me and another beside me.
Sam climbs onto the stool next to mine, folding her arms like she's trying not to pout but failing.
I nudge her with my elbow. "Where've you been, anyway?"
"Next door," she says casually, but her fake smile falters again. "Just wanted to see Esther before I leave, check how she's doing."
My chest tightens.
Two months ago, Esther—Caroline's mom—got into that car accident. Weeks in the hospital with a broken arm and both legs busted up. Scary as hell, but thank God that's all it was. The thought of worse... no, I don't even let my brain go there.
"She just got discharged a couple weeks ago," Sam says softly, picking at her nails.
"How is she?" I ask, my voice lower than I meant.
Sam twirls her fork into the baked ziti, blowing on a piece before answering. "She's getting better, but her leg and arm are still in casts. So, she can't really move around when she wants to. But Franklin hired a nurse for her. Helps her a lot."
Caroline.
Her name flashes across my brain like someone smacked me in the head with it.
