"Call your brother," I said. "He deserves to know you figured it out."
He didn't call that night. Or the next.
But I saw him thinking about it. Picking up the burner phone, turning it over in his hands, then setting it down again. Writing something on a scrap of paper and staring at it for long minutes before folding it into his pocket.
The fear was there. I recognized it. The terror of reaching out after you've burned everything down.
I didn't push. This had to be his choice.
It happened on a Tuesday.
I was at work when my phone buzzed with a text:I did it. I texted Tristan.
My heart jumped.What did you say?
That I'm okay. That I'm sorry I disappeared. That I understand if he doesn't want to talk to me.
Three dots appeared, disappeared, then appeared again.
He wrote back.
What did he say?
A long pause. Then:
He said "Finally. I've been waiting for you to reach out. When can we meet?"
I let out a breath I didn't know I'd been holding.
That's good. That's really good.
Another pause.
I'm scared.
I know.
Will you come with me? When I see him?
I didn't hesitate.
Always.
Chapter 15
Tobias
We met at a diner halfway between here and the city.
Vance waited in the parking lot. Close enough to see through the window, far enough to give us privacy. I had asked him to come, then to stay back. He understood.
My hands shook as I pushed through the door.
Tristan was already there, sitting in a corner booth with a cup of coffee he didn't seem to be drinking. He stood when he saw me, and for a moment, neither of us moved.
He didn't look like someone who had spent weeks not knowing if his brother was alive. No dark circles, no frantic energy, no relief flooding his face at the sight of me.
He looked like someone who had been waiting.
