“Would you like to come up to my room?” I ask quietly. Is that what people do?
Bronwyn nods, relief flashing across her face.
I lead her upstairs and close the door behind us. My room is exactly as I left it this morning—books stacked on every surface, my laptop open on the bed, a half-drunk cup of tea gone cold on the nightstand.
“Sorry about the mess,” I mutter, shoving a pile of clothes off the chair so she can sit.
“Don’t apologize. This is lovely.” She settles into the chair with the kind of grace that seems innate to her. “Your room suits you.”
I perch on the edge of my bed, tucking my feet under me. “Not like yours, I imagine.”
“Mine’s all white and gold. Looks like a hotel room.” She wrinkles her nose slightly. “This actually feels lived in. I like it.”
She sighs and smiles, then asks the last thing I expect her to.
“How are you? After… everything?”
My cheeks flush. Does she know I went to The Craic? Does the whole family know?
“I’m fine,” I say automatically.
“Erin.” Her voice is kind but firm. “You don’t have to pretend with me.” She smiles in a way that makes me feel weirdly emotional. “We’re going to be sisters.”
Why haven’t I thought of that before now? She’s right, of course. I’m not just marrying Cavin. I’m marrying into the wholefamily.I’ll have sisters and, for the first time in my life… brothers.
Oh god.
“I don’t know if I’m fine,” I admit quietly. “I don’t know what I am. It’s just a bit much.”
She nods slowly. “That’s fair. This is… a lot. All of it.”
“Did Cavin send you?” The question comes out sharper than I intended.
“No.” She reaches into her handbag and pulls out an envelope—a thick manila envelope that looks stuffed full. “Well, yes and no. He asked me to bring you this.”
She hands me the envelope.
It’s heavy. Substantial.
“What is it?” I ask, though something in my gut already knows.
“Open it.”
My fingers fumble with the clasp. I pull out the contents, and my breath catches.
Money. Stacks of it. Euros, neatly bundled in groups of five hundred.
“What—” I can’t finish the sentence.
“It’s eighteen thousand euros,” Bronwyn says quietly. “He wanted you to have it.”
I stare at the money in my lap like it might bite me. “Why?”
“He said to tell you it’s wedding money. For shopping, or whatever you need. But Erin…” She leans forward, her blue eyes intense. “That’s not what this is.”
“Then what is it?”
“It’s his fight purse. From the othernight.”
