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“You thought we’d all react like Freya.”

“Yeah,” Alana admitted. “Kind of.”

“And are you surprised that we still love you?”

She nodded to herself. “I guess that’s a way to put it.”

“Papa worried about you, every single day.” Brush, brush, brush. “Can I admit something?”

“Always, Bean.”

Her sister brightened at the use of her nickname after all these years. “I think you being gone gave Papa an…activity, per se. It kept him distracted from his reality.”

She froze, her brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”

“I mean…he couldn’t fall into a depressive state, you know? He spent most of Mom’s funeral trying to figure out where you went. I think his worry for you kept him going. I don’t know.” Sophie shook her head, cheeks red. “That sounds so stupid.”

Alana swallowed the ball that lodged in her throat. “I’m sorry I missed her funeral, and everything else.”

“I think we all had to grieve Mom in the way that made the most sense.” Sophie patted Nigel’s head, letting her know she was finished. Nigel pranced away. “I’m not exactly sure I’m the one you need to apologize to though.”

“I talked to Papa the first night⁠—”

“I mean Freya.” Sophie snapped her fingers, and Yolanda came sauntering up to her. “She sort of had to take on all of this responsibility. She stepped in to do the work for you and Mom, plus helped Papa with the business stuff.” She twisted her lips. “I’m afraid she’s going to burn out and run too.”

“She’s not me, Sophie.”

“Yes, but I don’t think she had the proper time to grieve like you did…” She paused, tilting her head. “Or at least I assume you did.”

Alana gently brushed behind Derby’s left ear. “I don’t think I’ll ever stop grieving.”

“Me either.” Her sister’s reply was so soft Alana almost missed it.

They worked in silence, tending to the goats.

Sophie cleared her throat. “Can it be your turn to admit something?”

Alana’s chest tightened. She bit her bottom lip, then nodded. “Sure, okay.”

“Do you know what happened to Mom’s ring?”

It wasn’t exactly the question that caught Alana off guard—she knew someone would eventually ask her. It was the way Sophie asked it. She didn’t blame her for taking it in the way Freya so blatantly did. She merely asked what happened. Sophie chose to see the best in her.

She ran a hand down Derby’s spine, then slapped her little bum. The goat huffed then marched off. Alana turned the brush over in her hands. “She gave it to me.”

Sophie blinked up, eyes wide and expectant. “She did?”

“Yes.” Alana sighed. She’d spent three years figuring out how she was going to have this conversation, running through the scenarios over and over in her head. None of her mental rehearsing made a difference though. She was still at a loss for words. Instead of fluffing around proper language, she decided to get right to the point. “She handed it to me and said it was a present, for whenever Chris was ready.”

Sophie’s bottom lip tipped open.

“He was standing right there, of course. Mom considered Chris part of the family at that point. She wanted him in the room when she said her goodbyes to me.” She closed her eyes and took a long, deep breath. She kept them closed through the rest of her confession. “When we stepped out of her hospital room, I told Chris I needed a few minutes. And then I…left.”

When she blinked her eyes back open, Sophie’s eyes were watery, cheeks wet. “He was so distraught. We all were.”

Alana dipped her gaze back to the brush in her hand, unable to look her sister in the eye. “I imagine you would’ve been.”

“Have you…spoken to him?”