How had she ever been so willfully blind to the good in her life? She had such love in her hands and she threw it away because it wasn’t the “right way,” because she wanted to prove something to her stupid sixteen-year-old self. To her father. She wanted to belong but didn’t realize shehadfound a place to belong in Daniel’s arms. Her voice shook.
“You have been such a good, kind, wonderful brother. I never could have dreamed I’d ever have someone who looks after me the way you do. And I spit on that like I spit on everything else.”
She listened for any sign of a response, but none came. Well… At least she’d tried. She’d failed, but at least she tried. Back on her feet, Sam tried to figure out a plan B. Plan C, actually. Plan A was apologizing. Check. Plan B was asking her brother to teach her piano. The apology was most important. At least she’d gotten that much done.
“I hope you can forgive me,” she sighed, then mumbled mostly to herself, “I can’t forgive me.”
“You should.”
Sam barely had time to face her brother, who’d apparently heard her entire speech not from behind his doorway but from the landing of the stairs behind her, before he wrapped her in a spine-crunching hug. The last time she’d hugged someone was her father on the night of the ball, and she couldn’t believe how starved for contact she now felt.
“I forgive you. I understand,” he whispered.
She’d thought it was going to be much, much harder than this, with more groveling and promises to be better. Internally, she was doing both of those things, but externally, she held onto him, not wanting to let him go again. She should have known better. Thomas was never one to hold a grudge. The only grudge she’d ever seen him hold was against the Animos Society and himself.
“You’re my kid sister. You think I wasn’t going to forgive you?”
“It did seem like you wouldn’t.”
No sigh of relief would have been big enough to express how she felt.
“Now.” Thomas let her go, holding her and inspecting her at arm’s length. “What are you going to do about Daniel?”
“Can I ask you something first?”
“Sure.”
This question was maybe not the best one to ask, but it was the one she needed answering right now. If she was going to try to make things right with Daniel, she needed to know. “Do you ever think about Iris? Your Mud Duck?”
He recoiled at the phrase Mud Duck, but his answer was almost immediate. “Every day.”
“Have you ever thought about, you know, trying to reconnect with her?”
Samantha wanted hope, wanted a reason to think that this could work. But Thomas didn’t have the hope she sought.
“She wouldn’t want to see me.”
“Daniel probably won’t want to see me. But I still have to try to make things right.”
“As long as Animos exists, there isn’t any hope for us. Believe me. Some of us don’t get our redemption stories. But I’d like to help you with yours, if I can.”
“Right.” Disappointment flooded her, but she made a promise to herself. One day, she’d help Thomas make things right with Iris. He’d done so much for her; it was the least she could do. She nodded toward the staircase, leading him down. “Well, I have a pretty big favor to ask you.”
Minutes later, they stood in front of his black grand piano. Unlike everything else in this house, the instrument was not an antique, but a new creation built to Thomas’s specifications and keen ear. At seven, while Samantha was getting lessons on how to take the subway home by herself, Thomas was getting piano lessons. While he’d never expressly confided in Sam he would have been a pianist if he hadn’t been a lord’s son, she always suspected it. They stared down at the sheet music artfully arranged on the piano’s stand.
“What’s your plan?” he asked.
“I need a little help learning it.”
He pointed to it. Clearly, the song choice confused him. “This one?”
“Yeah.”
“It’s a little…” He struggled for the word. Samantha knewexactlywhich he should pick and a moment later, he chose it. “Depressing, isn’t it?”
Samantha shrugged and sat down at the bench, resting her hands on the keys.
“It’s his favorite. He says it’s the greatest love song of all time.”
