“I was in therapy for many years.”
His voice rose in surprise. “You were?”
Nodding, Chloe met his gaze again. “I was ten. I remained in therapy until I was sixteen, and then I went back when I was twenty-one.”
“Are you . . . are you in it now?”
She shook her head. “I realized very quickly what I’d been doing that was bad for my mental health. I already had the tools to move on and improve myself, I simply had to implement them.”
“Uh, the boyfriend?” She’d said she went too far with him and had to hit the brakes before she embarrassed her father.
“Yes.”
“Do you ever talk about what happened to necessitate therapy at such a young age?” He couldn't think of a more polite way to ask what made her need that kind of help at ten.
“No. But I’ll tell you.”
“Only if you’re sure. You don't have to open up old wounds.”
Taking a deep breath, she reached over to touch the back of his hand. “I want to.”
“Okay. I’m listening.”
“I had a younger brother.”
At that declaration, he bit his tongue to hold in the questions that crowded his head. Automatically, his thoughts went to his daughter up in her room.
“Mom was told she’d never have any children after me. I gave her considerable complications, and my parents were happy not to go through that again. Unfortunately, life sometimes has other ideas.”
He didn't think she realized she rubbed her thumb over his hand, but more surprising was how much he enjoyed it. “So, you had a brother.”
“Yes. Leo. I was five when he was born. I was jealous, as kids tend to be. I thought he received more attention than I had in my entire life. Mom stayed home with him while I went to school, and he had her all to himself. I hated him.” She wiped away a tear that slipped down her cheek.
“Do you want to make some coffee, or some of that tea you brought?”
Chloe nodded, stood. “I could use a minute.”
He gave her that minute and then some. He made coffee because it felt like it would be a long night while she made tea. They moved around the kitchen in companionable silence, and Devon didn't hate it. When they were both holding steaming mugs, they sat back down on the couch.
“I struggled through my early school years. I wanted more of Mom’s attention. Dad was about to be promoted back then, and he was never home. I resented Leo for being this tiny monster who stole my toys and our parents’ limited time.” She took a breath, took a sip.
“And something tells me this story doesn’t have a happy ending.” He set his coffee on the side table and moved closer to her. Otherwise, he’d have been introduced to Leo by now.
“No, I can’t say it does. Um.” Chloe sucked in a breath. “The summer right before I turned ten, we went on a camping trip. It was the first time Mom and Dad could get time off together. Leo was enrolled in kindergarten, and it was all he could talk about. I kept telling him to shut up. Those are the last words I said to him.”
“Hey, it’s okay.”
Before she could drop it, he took her cup from her hands, pulling her into his arms and holding on tight. She hiccuped into his shoulder and wept for the terror of losing her brother.
“You don't need to tell me the rest. I can pretty much figure it out.”
“No.” She tipped back to see his face. “I want to tell you.”
His stomach knotted. “Are you sure?”
Chloe nodded. “It’s relevant. You see, he went missing overnight.”
A warning bell went off in Devon’s head. That was relevant, all right. He didn't think he had the courage to picture what must have happened so close on the heels of what almost happened to Hailey. “I don’t know if I can handle hearing this.”
