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“That’s a yes.”

“Leave.”

He’s still smiling when the door closes behind him.

That night, I’m curled up on the couch with my sketchbook when music comes through the wall. I recognize it within the first few seconds as one of the songs I mentioned earlier, a slower Black Keys track.

The volume isn’t high enough to rattle anything, just loud enough to reach me clearly through the wall. I wait for the usual irritation, but it never comes.

Zander plays the entire song without stopping, and I just sit there listening until the final chord fades.

For once, I don’t tell him to turn it down.

Chapter nine

ZANDER

My truck chooses Saturday afternoon to act up.

I turn the key twice and get the same weak click from somewhere under the hood. On the third try, the dash lights flicker like they’re considering working, then everything goes quiet.

“Perfect.”

I sit behind the wheel for another second before getting out and popping the hood. I know enough about engines to recognize the obvious stuff, but not enough to pretend I’m going to solve anything complicated in the driveway.

The battery connections look fine. Nothing smells burned. I try the key once more, get another useless click, and pull out my phone.

Dad answers on the second ring.

“What do ya need?”

“Nice to hear your voice too.”

“You usually call me on a Saturday because something’s broken.”

“My truck won’t start.”

“What’s it doing?”

I explain, and he asks enough questions to confirm that my roadside diagnostic skills haven’t improved since I was sixteen.

“Could be the battery. Could be the starter,” he says. “Bring it by, and I’ll take a look.”

“That plan has one obvious problem.”

Dad is quiet for a beat. “The old blue pickup is still at the shop. Come grab it, and we’ll deal with yours later.”

“I need a ride.”

“Call one of your brothers.”

“Lachlin has a newborn, and Conlin’s working.”

“I’m working too, so call your mother.”

“I’m not calling Mom to rescue me from my own driveway.”

Dad laughs. “Pride’s expensive.”