Gracie lifts a shoulder. “I’m fine.”
Bridget eyes her dubiously and then looks at me over the top of Gracie’s head. I give her a nod of acknowledgment, but Gracie’s working through this at her own pace. She knows what she needs more than anyone else right now, and I’m going to make sure she gets it—support, in whatever form that looks like.
Even if it’s not me who helps her.
Gracie’s been spending more time at my parents’ house, helping Mom in the kitchen, or, strangely, watching sports with my dad. One afternoon, I turned up after sleeping off a night full of callouts, and Mom told me thatGracie was out in the shed with Dad, and had been all day.
When they finally came into the house, sharing secretive smiles, eyes twinkling, it was the lightest I’d seen her since the attack.
“How about we go out for a drink?” Bridget suggests. “I’m not ready to go home, and Benson’s is having a pizza night.”
“Pizza,” I murmur, ears perking up. “I could eat a pizza.”
Gracie hesitates. “Yeah, okay. Pizza.” She eyes me warily. “Am I going to be accosted by your mistakes? Or will I be safe to eat my food in peace?”
I wince dramatically, slapping a hand against my chest. “You know what? Let me invite Nick.” I pull my phone out, muttering, “Maybe you can turn your sharp tongue on him.”
Pizza obviously drawsa crowd because the bar is busier than usual for a Thursday night. Bridget snags us a table on the patio just as someone else leaves, so I head inside to order a round of drinks—a club soda for me after volunteering to drive the girls tonight.
When I come back, Bridget’s angled her body to the side and is chatting to the people at the table behind her. Gracie’s got her phone in hand, scrolling a social media app. She glances up when I set a glass of white wine in front of her.
“Thanks.”
“No problem.” I nod at her phone. “Anything interesting happening in the world?”
“You would know if you used social media,” she reminds me—a familiar argument. She taps on the screen, bringing up a picture and pointing it toward me. I leanforward, recognizing Nolan right off the bat. He’s holding a small baby with a gummy smile, one sticky hand holding a fistful of Nolan’s hair.
“That his niece?” I ask.
Gracie nods. “Maisie.”
“Cute.”
She puts her phone away, picking her drink up and taking a sip. “Nolan seems happy to be back with his family. I think he missed them more than he was letting on.”
I lean back in my chair, watching her thoughtfully. “Have you heard from your parents?”
Gracie called them after the attack, and had been shocked when they answered, but she didn’t go into any detail about how the conversation had actually gone.
The corners of her eyes go tight as she looks away. “No.”
I want to push for more information, but someone drags a chair across the patio, the legs scraping loudly against the wooden boards. I look up as Nick lays a hand on the shoulder of an unfamiliar woman, pressing her down into the seat before taking one beside her.
“Hey,” he greets cheerfully. “This is Halsey.” Gracie tenses beside me, her face losing a shade of color. Nick doesn’t notice, pointing at each of us in turn. “Halsey, this is Braxton, Gracie, and Bridget.”
“Hi,” Halsey says with forced brightness, her blue eyes uncertain. “Sorry. I told Nick I didn’t want to crash your night, but…” She shoots a dark glare at the man beside her, but he only smirks back.
“It’s fine,” he drawls, casually draping an arm over the back of her chair. “Halsey’s been living in town for a year and doesn’t know many people. She spends most of her time locked away, painting.” Her cheeks flush, and she shoves an elbow into his side, but he barely flinches. “I waswith her when I got your message, so I figured tonight was as good as any to introduce her.”
“It’s nice to meet you,” Bridget says. “You’re welcome to join us as long as you don’t eat my pizza.”
“You too.” Halsey tugs at the long sleeves of her top, her eyes not quite landing anywhere. “Like I said, I’m sorry. I tried to tell him, but Nick’s not so great at listening.”
There’s enough familiarity in her voice that my eyebrows climb my forehead, and I send Nick a questioning look. He just shrugs back, the easy grin on his lips not quite reaching his eyes.
Gracie leans forward, giving Halsey a small smile. “It’s lovely to meet you, Halsey. You work at The Sterling Thread, right?”
“Yes, with Lynley,” she replies, her shoulders not easing as she watches her cautiously. “I’m really sorry, Gracie,” she says hesitantly. “About what my brother did. If I had known he was responsible…”
