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I take our dishes and put them in the dishwasher.
“Do you want anything else?” Falcon asks. “There are some apples in the fridge.”
“No, I’m good.” A yawn splits my face. “Maybe we should just go to bed.” Then I look around. “I feel so naked without my purse and my phone. Miles has everything. He has my ID, for God’s sake.”
“But you have his. Maybe you can make some use out of it. His phone won’t do you any good, though. And even if you had yours, your regular phone wouldn’t work here anyway. Signals can’t get here, so we use satellite.”
I nod, yawning again.
“Let’s go to bed,” Falcon says.
“Okay.”
He doesn’t have to ask me twice. I’m exhausted. Now that my stomach is full, all I can think about is a soft bed and Falcon’s shoulder.
Hills and valleys…
The meadow with my mama. Our picnic together, mother-daughter style.
My room, my own bed, my stuffed dog that I affectionately call Puppy.
I look for a safe space, but I can’t find one.
Because of my brother—the only brother I have left since Vinnie left.
Michael.
My Mikey is dead.
Shot in his own home.
Michael, who played by the rules. Who stayed and did his duty to his family. Who married Miles McAllister’s cousin Elizabeth.
Sadness sweeps through me—sadness laced with anger.
Laced with regret.
Because I know what’s going to happen now.
They’re going to want me.
I push that to the back of my mind, because right now I need to mourn my brother.
There was a time when I was a little girl when I knew neither of my brothers would ever leave me.
Especially Vinnie. Big brother to both Michael and me. The perfect older brother—he protected us without fail whenever we needed him.
But then he left.
Never to be seen or heard from again, so I turned to Michael. Mikey, my rock. My big brother.
“I want to see him,” I said to my father.
“No, Savannah. Absolutely not.”
My father’s ice cold. His face is frozen. No expression at all. This demeanor… As if all feelings and emotion have left him.
His son is dead, for God’s sake.
