I believe her.
I have to believe her.
"Uncle Garrett!"
I look up just in time to catch Sadie Jo as she barrels into me, her arms wrapping around my waist in a fierce hug.
She's thirteen now, all gangly limbs and braces and boundless energy.
"Hey, kid." I ruffle her hair, earning an indignant squawk. "Where's the birthday girl?"
"Still getting ready." Sadie Jo rolls her eyes with all the drama a thirteen-year-old can muster. "She's been in the bathroom for like an hour. I told her it's just a party, but she said I wouldn't understand because I'm a baby."
"You're not a baby."
"I know!" Another eye roll. "Sisters are the worst."
I think about Leah.
About all the years she was angry at me, at Vanna, at the world.
About the way she's slowly started to soften these past few months, showing up at the clubhouse for dinners, letting herself be part of our family again.
"Sisters are complicated," I say. "But they're worth it. Trust me."
Sadie Jo looks skeptical, but before she can argue, Coin's voice cuts through the noise.
"She's coming! Everyone shut up!"
The room goes quiet—well, as quiet as a room full of bikers can get.
There's still some shuffling, some whispered curses as someone steps on someone else's foot, but we all turn toward the hallway.
And then Wrenleigh appears.
She's wearing a gold dress that sparkles under the lights, her dark hair curled and pinned up in some complicated style that probably took the full hour Sadie Jo complained about.
She looks... older.
Not like a kid anymore.
Like a young woman on the edge of her life, all possibility and promise.
Coin makes a sound beside me.
When I glance over, his eyes are wet.
"She looks just like her mother," he mutters, and there's something complicated in his voice.
Pain and pride and maybe a little bit of grief.
I know the story.
Everyone in the club does. Angelica—Angel, he used to call her—walked out when Sadie Jo was three.
Just packed a bag and disappeared to Vegas, leaving Coin to raise two little girls on his own.
She calls sometimes, when she needs money.
