Page 55 of Weight of Guilt

Nora crossed her arms. “Finally.”

“Don’t.” Marlowe flipped the album shut. “Don’t you dare throw finally at this conversation like this is something you won.”

Nora cast their youngest sister a look. “I’m not saying it like I won. I’m saying I think this is a good idea, and I’ve been waiting for someone else to agree. We can’t just keep sitting on this. It’s irresponsible.”

Marlowe said nothing. She simply scowled, her mouth poised for another argument.

Wren knew she had to convince Marlowe to see things their way.

If that was even possible.

“Marlowe.” Wren waited until her sister looked at her. “A man we called family was clearly keeping some kind of secret—one that might tie in with Christian’s disappearance.”

Marlowe’s chin came up. “So your answer is telling Luke about it.”

“Yes, we need to tell someone who can do something about it.”

“Christian is seventeen.” Marlowe’s voice went thin and fast. “The second you say his name out loud in that office, he stops being ours. He’s a case.”

“He’s seventeen with two living parents,” Nora said. “Nobody’s putting him anywhere. Luke calls Mom, Luke calls Dad, and after that it’s theirs to decide.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of.” Marlowe pressed her palm on the counter. “Look at them, Nora. Mom is a total wreck now. Dad moved away, and we’ve seen him once in three years. Those are the two people we’d have to hand Christian to.”

Nausea pooled in her stomach. “I know.”

“You know?” Marlowe laughed, but there was nothing behind the sound. “You know, and you’re doing this anyway.”

“I’m trying to do the right thing.” Wren’s voice climbed, and she pulled it back down. “Either way, I need to tell Luke about Roy.”

“Why don’t you just tell the truth, Wren? You don’t believe Christian either. You think it might not be him.” Marlowe’s eyes sparked with anger. “He’s home. He is actually, finally home, and both of you⁠—”

“I believe him,” Wren rushed. “That’s not what this is. I could believe every word out of his mouth and still want to see the man who took him in handcuffs. Isn’t that what we all want?”

Marlowe opened her mouth and shut it again.

Nora’s hands went to her hips. “Then we do it with a line drawn. Wren tells Luke everything. But none of us hands Christian over to anyone tonight. He stays here.”

Marlowe’s shoulders lowered slightly. “Okay.”

Wren gave Nora a warning look. “You can’t promise that will hold.”

“I’m not trying to.” Nora continued. “Luke might send somebody out here tonight, and there won’t be one thing the three of us can do about it. But we’re not the ones who hand him over. That much we control.”

Marlowe finally nodded. “Okay. Fine.”

“There’s one other thing.” Wren looked between them. “Mom and Dad. We have to tell them tonight.”

“Luke’s going to call them the second you walk out of there,” Nora said.

“Not if I ask him not to.” Wren already had her keys. “I’ll tell him I need until the end of the day. That Mom and Dad need to hear it from us.”

Nora cast her a look. “And if he says no?”

“Then I get in my car and drive faster than he can dial.”

“Tonight,” Nora repeated with a nod. “It needs to be in person. She needs someone there with her.”

“I agree. Mom’s going to come apart.” Marlowe’s lips tugged down in a worried frown.