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A long, withering sigh. “You said you wouldn’t cry.”
“I’m not.” I sniffle. “I’m eating while quietly leaking.” As I do, I scan my eyes over her tattoos. Rose bushes up her thighs.Rope–ride on her knuckles. Cowgirls and butterflies on her forearms.
“You got a new one.” I point at her colorful forearm folded on the countertop.
“Annie Oakley.” She holds her grin close to her heart, looks at me out of the corner of her eye. “The pinup version.”
“You and your cowgirls.”
“You and your cupcakes.” She studies me. “You miss your bakery?”
It’s not my favorite topic, but I’ll take what I can get from my sister. “I do,” I admit on a breathy sigh.
She shrugs. “I remember thinking how much I never wanted this place when we were kids.” Her eyes flit to me briefly, then scan the kitchen. “I want to be like dad,” she says. “But I don’t want the store. I don’t want this town. I don’t want to die here.”
My chest clenches. I can feel her panic, her rush of words fighting against her confidence and cool.
“Fallon, you don’t have to do this alone.”
“It won’t be for long. That store down the block will put us out of business,” she says pointedly. “They’re better than us.”
I inhale a determined breath. “Maybe so, but we’ll figure out what our store needs and do it. And if that means closing it…” Fallon pales but hope flickers in her eyes.“I’ll be here. And we can talk to Dad together. You shouldn’t be stuck with it. And I’m sorry I took that away from you—leaving.”
She shifts on her stool, her shoulders tensing. Feelings make Fallon itch. Still, I go on. Even daring to stretch a hand across the table and squeeze hers. “Tell me what you’d do if you could do anything.” I smile. “One tiny, little secret.”
Her laugh is sad. “No one’s ever asked me that. It’s all just been…” She makes a fist and rubs a circle around her heart. “Here.”
She’s still for a long beat.
“I’d leave Resurrection. I’d find Mom. I’d go to Arizona.” At my questioning look, she goes on. “There’s a camp down south where you can ride with wild horses. Train with Vick Lavoie at his school.” A bright blaze of a smile illuminates her face. “I want more than Resurrection. I want the wind. I want freedom.”
I stare at her, understanding cracking in my chest. My sister’s tumbleweed heart. She’s never had any settle down in her boots.
“You made your way. I’ll make mine.”
“I didn’t make my way,” I say with a toss of my head. “I built my entire life up only to burn it down.”
“No, you didn’t.” She leans in. “Starting over is okay, Koty. Being alone is okay. What is not okay is staying somewhere where you’re hurt or not happy or not safe.” Flames dance in Fallon’s eyes. “Thatis not okay. Someone hurting you is not okay. And if I ever see that worthless piece of dogshit, I’m going to pound his motherfucking face into the fucking concrete.”
My eyes widen. “That’s…extremely murderous.”
“I only do murder to the extreme.”
Fallon cracks a laugh, and I join her. Wild, rebellious laughter, the kind we enjoyed as children.
When the chuckles settle, I grip her hand tighter, desperate for her to understand. “I don’t like this, Fallon. I missed you. You’re my little sister. You mean everything to me.”
“Then why—” She stops, bites her lip.
“Go on.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” The look of confusion and despair on her face kills me. “You’re my best friend, Dakota. We talked all the time. And then you just stopped calling.” She looks down to pick at a thumbnail. “I would have helped you if I had known.”
“I know.” A deep ache wrenches my heart. “You’d have been there.”
“With pliers and a sock full of pennies.”
I sigh.
