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“He won two silvers,” said Evie. “Beat his personal best for javelin, too.”
“Javelin?”
She grinned. “I know! Cool, right? Sammy trains so hard, he deserves all the good things.”
“Sammy?” Nick blinked, his expression quizzical. “Not Sam Sutherland?”
“Yeah? Why?” Evie let go of her necklace.
Barking out a laugh, Nick launched backward in his chair. “Bloody hell!” He plowed a hand through his hair. “I know him. Holy shit, I can’t believe this! You’re Sam’s baby sister!”
Baby? Evie’s hopefulness curdled in her stomach. “But how—”
“Right!” Mr. Remington swept into the room. “Everyone take a seat!” He slammed the creaky door behind him. “Turn to page sixty-seven and ‘How Can I Be Sure’.”
* * *
“Sammy, you could’ve told me!” Evie stalked her older brother around their cramped kitchen. “You know how much I like him and—”
“And what, Sprout?” Sam gleefully teased Evie with her childhood nickname as he tore into a packet of ginger biscuits. “I spill and you and your giggly friends hound him to death?” He scratched his messy nest of auburn hair. “No chance.”
Face reddening, Evie snatched the packet from his grip.
“Rude!” Sam lunged forward, but Evie backed up, holding the biscuits beyond his reach.
“How long have you been mates? Tell me or I’ll chuck these in the bin.” She stomped on the trash can’s foot pedal, popping open its squeaky metal mouth.
Letting out a laugh, Sam inched closer. “Like that would stop me eating them.”
“Ew!” Evie snarled, ignoring the slam of the front door. “TELL ME!”
“Two years.”
Her face fell. “What?! How?”
Sam swooped and plucked the cookies from her hand as Marianne Sutherland, a russet-haired force of nature, breezed into the kitchen and sliced through their squabble. “Sam”—she rolled up the sleeves of her flowery blouse—“what did your coach say about eating biscuits?” Running the taps, she pumped a blob of soap into her palm and flashed her son a knowing look. Reluctantly, he relinquished the partially devoured packet, leaving it on the counter beside two deflated crisp bags and Evie’s book of word search puzzles.
“Sam?” Evie pressed.
“I know his cousins.”
Her eyes widened. “He has cousins here?”
“A few. They attend Stromness Academy.” Sam bent over and scooped up their cat, Turtle, her white fur dappled with splotches of fiery orange and midnight black. “We hang out, play football, talk about girls…you know, guy stuff.” He pressed a gentle kiss between Turtle’s ears. “Nico joins in when he’s here. When’s he not, we play video games online.”
“You serious?” Her tone darkened. “You’re one of Nick’s best mates?!”
“Hey, don’t get pissed at me.” Sam stepped aside so their mother could dry her hands on the cat-print towel hanging from the fridge. “Nico swore me not to tell anyone.”
“But I’m not anyone!” Evie hugged her belly. “I hope you’re this good at keeping my secrets.”
“I am! Jesus, Evie! I’m not an arse.”
“Could’ve fooled me—”
“Okay, you two, enough!” Marianne exhaled heavily and hung up the towel.
“Well?” Evie glowered. “He’s the one who lied.”
