I parked crookedly in the gravel, killed the engine, and sat there with my hands on the wheel until my knuckles whitened. The silence inside the truck pressed down on me, thick with anticipation.
I had missed the funeral.
All because I’d turned my phone off for ten damn days, trying to escape. The guilt crawled up my ribs. I forced myself out of the truck.
The screen door creaked just the same as it had when I was seventeen. And then my mother was there, small and kind, silver threads streaking through her chestnut hair, but her face was older in a way that had nothing to do with time.
“Oh, Ethan.” She cupped my cheek like I was still her little boy. The warmth of her palm nearly undid me. “Come in, sweetheart. Come in.”
I stepped inside.
The house smelled of stew and lavender cleaner. My father stood near the table, stiff and sturdy as ever, though his eyes were rimmed red in a way he probably hated anyone seeing.
Bill Walker didn’t cry. Except he had. Recently.
“Dad,” I said.
“Son.” He nodded once, like even that motion cost him effort. “Long trip.”
“Yeah.”
We stood there for a beat too long, neither of us quite sure what came next.
Mom cleared her throat. “We, um… we spoke to the lawyer. After the funeral.”
The air shifted. My stomach tightened.
I swallowed. “Yeah? And?”
My parents exchanged a look that carried weight, worry and a thousand unspoken things.
Mom’s voice softened. “Matt and Jenny… named you, Ethan.”
I blinked. “Named me?”
“As Lily’s guardian.”
For a moment, everything in the room fell away. Just a hollow ringing inside my skull.
My brother.
Perfect, reliable Matt. And Jenny, who had barely tolerated me after I’d shattered her best friend’s heart.
They chose me?
“That, that can’t be right,” I said. My voice cracked on the edges. “They wouldn’t have picked me. I mean… why would they?”
“They did,” Dad said quietly. “The lawyer wants to meet with you as soon as possible.”
The world felt off-center, like someone had tilted the floor beneath me.
Chapter 8
Ethan
A small shuffle behind Mom drew my eyes to the hallway.
A tiny girl peeked out, chestnut hair curling around her face, eyes too big for her small frame. She clutched a teddy bear to her chest.
