“It has a certain rakish charm. Like you’ve had a few bar fights.”
“That’s high praise, from Mr. Rakish Charm himself.”
“I haveneverbeen in a bar fight.”
“Albany was a waste, then.”
Sebastian laughed at this, reaching for the dials of the Beamer’s radio. I flicked his hand away.
He looked at me. When we were little, we’d sneak out to the garage to listen to the car radios. It was our only unmonitored connection to the outside world, the only place that songs and stories came flowing in without elders providing commentary, warning us against sentiment.
“Headache,” I said.
“Have you told Uncle Harold? You have to be careful, after a car crash.”
“It’s not the concussion,” I said, wishing I could tell him that my head only hurt when music was beautiful. Even then, it was my heart that suffered most. “I had a long morning of yowling.”
“Pain resistance?”
“Fifteen new puppies. Lady Borden was early.”
“They must be beauties,” he sighed. “Too bad we can’t have pets at Helshire.”
“Tell that to Gertie. Though one supposes Uncle Max isn’t coming back this year.”
“Oh, he is.”
I looked at Sebastian.
“She told me about your little affray,” he said. “Turns out, felines can survive a fall at terminal velocity.”
“Shouldn’t terminal velocity be…terminal?”
He shrugged. “Maybe Uncle Max only has eight lives left.”
“Seven,” I said.
Both of us laughed at that for a while, the road rumbling under our tires, the sun sinking low enough to flicker through the trees. Juniper scents began to replace the stench of paper mills.
No matter how much I’d changed, home still smelled like home.
“I missed you this summer,” Sebastian said.
You had my number. I was three hours away.
“Missed you too.”
“It wasn’t fair, blaming you.” He put his head back, closing his eyes. “It wasn’t blame, really. I just had to hurt someone—for Peter. Do you understand?”
“Sebastian, why do you think I burned down Halcyon Hall?”
He smiled. “As a glorious tribute? That bomb was so beautiful. It would’ve been a shame to waste it.”
“More than a bomb—an engine of destruction.” I thought of those sparkling flames every time it rained.
Sebastian was watching the passing trees. “Peter told me something once. He was afraid of letting his anger out. Becoming dangerous.”
“Cousin,” I said. “We are all dangerous.”
