Page 63 of Weight of Guilt

“We are listening!” Nora’s voice cracked. “You want to know what I actually think? I think if I’d pushed yesterday like I wanted to, we’d already have answers, and we wouldn’t be standing in the yard arguing about it.”

“Of course . . . because you’re always right.” Marlowe rolled her eyes.

“I’m not always right! But I am a nurse, and I’m the oldest sister. I have a certain responsibility⁠—”

“Girls!” Wren said, trying to stop the argument before it went too far. “There’s something else.”

They both stopped arguing and turned.

Wren drew in a deep breath before saying, “Luke said don’t leave Christian alone with Mason. Until we know more.”

“He said that?” Marlowe said, accusation tinging her voice

Wren decided not to beat around the bush, as the expression went. “Yes, he said that.”

She gaped. “And you’re going to listen to him?”

“Mason is seven years old.” Wren’s throat had gone tight. “His safety is my first priority. Always. Luke is right to advise caution.”

Marlowe laughed, and there wasn’t one bit of humor in it. “Listen to yourself. That’s our brother. That’s Christian, and you’re standing here talking about him like he’s something you found in the yard.”

“Even if that is Christian, we don’t know how he’s changed or what he’s been through.”

“He’s still our brother!”

“And I have a child I need to protect! You wouldn’t understand.” Wren heard the words leave her mouth and couldn’t call them back. “You don’t get to tell me what being a mom is supposed to look like.”

The yard went quiet.

Marlowe’s chin came up. “That’s really how you feel?”

Guilt flooded her. “Marlowe⁠—”

“Go on and finish it, since you started.”

Wren’s face heated. “That’s not what I meant.”

“It’s exactly what you meant.” Marlowe wiped her cheek with the back of her wrist. “I know what you think of me. You’ve never had to say it out loud, and neither has Nora. But you blame me for Christian’s disappearance.”

“You were supposed to be watching him,” Nora muttered. “Instead you wanted to hang out with your friends.”

“You don’t think I blame myself for that every day? Because I do! I know it’s my fault.”

For ten years, the three of them had only had each other. Not their father, who’d stopped calling. Not their mother, who’d basically checked out.

It was just the three of them. Whatever else the Loveless sisters had lost, they’d had each other.

Two days was all it had taken to weaken their bond.

Tears pressed in her eyes.

I wish he hadn’t come back.

The thought hit Wren out of nowhere, and she froze.

She pressed her hand against her chest as an ache formed there.

Ten years. For ten years, she’d prayed for the exact thing they’d just been given, and she’d imagined every version of how Christian’s return might happen.