Page 63 of Dearly Departed

“That’s not something you’re used to doing at home.” Somehow, I have ended up draped over Gabriel. He has to be uncomfortable. He doesn’t let it show. “You can do it here, with us. We’re going to make sure you’re okay.”

“Catherine—”

“We’re going to take care of Catherine, too.”

“What happens—but—” Ah. I’ve reached the final ledge of my sanity and tumbled off. “Afterward. I don’t think I can—Jesus, what am I supposed to⁠—”

“You don’t think you can be alone? I have wonderful news,” Gabriel sings. “You’re not going to be alone, because we won’t let you. Not here, not in London, nowhere. You’re going to be so coddled you won’t know what to do with yourself.”

It’s possible I might lose consciousness. “Do you swear?”

“I swear on brunch day.” Gabriel’s voice gets softer. That might be because I’m passing out. “Mase? Jamie?”

“What’s up, loverboy?” Jameson sounds like he’s at the opposite end of a long tunnel. “Oh, Jesus. Was he worse than me?”

“He didn’t break any dishes, so you’re still in first place.”

“Thank Christ.”

“Mase, do you think Scott can get the album from—yeah, that one.” I don’t hear Mason’s answer at all. “Thanks.”

“What’s the strategy here?” asks Jameson.

“Just help me get him on his feet. And be gentle, okay? I promised.”

17

CATHERINE

Idon’t think my sisters mean to take me away from Jacob and everybody else. At first, I think it’s just about going somewhere quieter because we can’t stop talking to each other.

The wedding was such an emergency, and it came out of nowhere, so we were focused. We didn’t have time for much sisterly bonding. We couldn’t be sneaking off constantly to tell each other secrets.

It must be an old instinct to go upstairs, away from the others. It’s what we used to do in our parents’ house, although this time it’s not us against our terrible father. As we tiptoe up the stairs, whispering to each other for no reason, it feels like us against the world.

Maybe that’s why we head for Elise’s room and make a blanket fort on the far side of the bed, with pillows stacked on the outer edges and an app on Lydia’s phone giving us faux firelight. It reminds me of the flameless candles on the island, only this blanket fort feels much safer.

Elise sits on my left side, and Lydia sits on my right. They sling their arms around my shoulders, and when they lean their heads on mine, I could be nine years old again. Except not quite, because when I was nine I didn’t really understand how easily I could lose my sisters. I still thought our lives would turn out like a fairy tale. We’d survive the evil father and the terrified mother, and one day a prince would come and whisk us all away to a shining palace where no one would ever hurt us again.

That turned out to be…kind of true, if you think about it. But not until Elise whisked herself away, and I spent years resenting her for that. And not until Gabriel found her, and she found the real Gabriel—the one who had survived the worst of his childhood and needed someone to show him that he could be…

Himself.

And not until Gabriel and Elise sent Jacob to whisk me away from the evil king. He took me back to his penthouse palace and treated me like a queen.

How did I not see that? How did I not see everything?

“God,” Lydia says. “I can’t believe you’re alive. Like, I knew you wouldn’t just roll over and give up, because you’re you⁠—”

I let out an ugly snort. “Because I’m me?”

“Um, yes, Catherine, because you’re you. You’re beautiful and stubborn and smart and my sister, so I knew you’d fight.”

Tears sting the corners of my eyes. I try to smile through them. “You’re confusing me with somebody else. I don’t even have a passionate hobby. I got stuck in the mummy room at the museum.”

“There was a museum on the island?” Lydia squeaks. “With mummies?”

“No. This was before, at the British Museum.” My face gets hot, and a single tear slides down my cheek. Why do I always feel things so late? Why am I always surprised to find out that I miss my sisters? Shouldn’t I just know that automatically? “It was before the whole horse incident.”