“I think he got tied up helping Noah with the fence,” I say lightly, keeping my voice steady for Josh. “I’m sure he’s disappointed too.”
“Oh. Okay.” He nods, accepting it easier than I expected. And then, just like that, he lets it go. “I hope they got it fixed,” he adds, already moving on. “Mabel has been sneaking out. I wouldn’t want her to get hurt or hit by a car or anything.”
My chest tightens for a different reason now. I glance at him, at the sincerity in his eyes, the way his concern is for the dog, not himself. He’s a good kid. So much better than the mess I feel like right now.
I reach over and squeeze his knee. “Yeah. Me too.”
Maybe that’s all this is. Tuck being Tuck. Helping where he’s needed. With that thought, my chest loosens. We drop Ari off, then head home. The driveway is empty when I pull in. But the floodlights are on. Bright. Harsh. Lighting up the entire front lawn like something—or someone—needed to see everything clearly.
A ripple of unease moves through me.
“It doesn’t look like Tuck’s home yet,” Josh says, already unbuckling. “I can’t wait to tell him about my goal. I’m going to text him.”
“Josh—” I start, but it’s too late. The message is already sent. He’s out of the car and halfway to the door before I can say another word. Lucas follows, their voices echoing into the house as I linger for just a second longer in the quiet.
Something feels…off.
I can’t name it. But it’s there. I push it aside and head in after them. I move toward the kitchen, my gaze drifting—almost unconsciously—to the walls. To the frames. To what I added.
My chest tightens.
The boys tear through the house, calling for Marbles, their footsteps pounding down the hall, doors opening and closing.
“Marbles!”
“Here, kitty!”
Silence answers them. A moment later, they’re back. “We can’t find Marbles,” Josh says, a crease forming between his brows.
“I’m sure he’s around here somewhere,” I say. “Have you looked downstairs? I gesture with a nod. “The door was left open.”
“I’ll look,” Lucas says. Then suddenly, the front door opens and closes quietly.
We all go still, then Josh’s face lights up. “It’s Tuck. Tuck did you get my text?”
The boys bolt, and I slowly move toward the hallway behind them. My heart lurches when I see him.
“Tuck…” I murmur.
He looks…distraught. Pale. Drawn. Like something inside him has been shaken loose.
“Marbles,” he murmurs, averting our gazes.
“Do you have him?” I ask, my voice quieter now.
He swallows hard. “He…he got out. There was an accident.” His hands drag through his hair, gripping, like he’s trying to hold himself together.
“An accident?” Josh’s voice jumps. “Is he okay?”
Tuck nods quickly. “He broke a leg. He had to have surgery. He’s going to be okay.”
Relief rushes through me, but it’s tangled with something else. “Tuck,” I say softly, taking a step closer. “Are you okay?”
“The door…” he gestures behind him, his voice rough. “I tripped on the mat. I startled him. He ran…”
“He’s going to be okay, though, right?” Lucas asks, hovering close to his brother.
“Yeah,” Tuck says, but his voice cracks on the word. “He had to stay overnight.” His gaze drops. “But I’m sorry,” he adds, quieter now. “I messed up. I failed?—”
