The woman who'd sat across the dinner table confessing every mistake she'd made was gone. Out here stood someone completely defeated, seeking comfort from an old gray mare.
He'd spent his entire life believing he was Peter Wilson's only child.
Now he couldn't stop staring at Shylo.
Nothing she'd said inside the house had sounded rehearsed or self-serving. Every painful detail, every tear, every apology had carried the weight of someone who'd finally run out of ways to hide from the truth. While he was still trying to wrap his head around everything she'd revealed, he knew she was who she claimed to be—his sister.
Watching her shoulders shake with every sob, one certainty rose above all others.
Leaving her out there alone wasn't an option.
He started across the yard at an unhurried pace.
“Shylo,” he called softly before getting too close, giving her a chance to hear him coming instead of startling her—or Daisy.
Her back remained to him as she stepped away from the fence and the mare, dragging both hands across her face to wipe away the tears.
When he stopped a step behind her, she hesitated before slowly turning her head enough to acknowledge she'd heard him. He rested a hand on her shoulder, the gentle touch urging her to face him instead of retreating again. “You don't have to hide from me.”
She stood motionless for another second before finally turning around. Her eyes were swollen and red, and fresh tears glistened on her cheeks. Seeing her like that drove every coherent thought from his mind. Nothing he could say would erase her pain.
So he did the only thing that felt right.
He opened his arms.
Disbelief flickered across her face before she rushed forward, closing the distance between them. Shane wrapped his arms around her as another sob broke free. He held her while grief, loneliness, fear, and regret poured out against his shoulder. She clung to him with a desperation that made his chest ache.
Thirty years.
Thirty years they'd lost because of choices neither of them had made.
He couldn't change any of it.
But standing there with his sister in his arms, he silently vowed he wouldn't lose another day.
Seth drove with no destination in mind.
The windows were down, but the warm June air did nothing to cool the anger burning beneath his skin. The miles passed without him paying much attention to where they were taking him.
The steering wheel creaked beneath his grip.
“Damn it.”
The curse disappeared into the empty cab.
Everything he'd believed about Shylo had unraveled in the span of a few seconds. She wasn't just a woman who'd wandered into Hazard Falls looking for a fresh start. She wasn't the stranger whose truck had overheated on the side of the road or the woman he'd teased into climbing onto Daisy for her first ride across the ranch. Every smile, every conversation, every stolen kiss suddenly carried another question.
Had she known exactly who he was from the beginning?
His jaw clenched.
Of course she had.
She'd admitted to being Shane's half-sister and hiding who she was. Everything else he'd pieced together on his own, and every conclusion he'd reached made his stomach knot a little tighter. It was easy to connect the dots—she’d used him to get close to Shane.
He slammed the heel of his hand against the steering wheel. “Damn it!”
The truck drifted toward the shoulder before he corrected it.
