Page 124 of The Cost of Blood and Bonds

“Miss me?” Her voice is hoarse, but the edge is still there.

“Hardly noticed you were gone.”

She laughs and immediately regrets it. Her breath hitches, and her hand covers her ribs.

“Okay,” I say, hands steadying her. “Let’s get you inside. You look terrible.”

“Have you looked in a mirror lately?”

I snort despite myself and shift closer, keeping my arm firm around her back as we move. Her steps are slow and measured. I match them, adjusting when she leans, slowing when she hesitates. We make it through the hall without incident, and it feels like a win.

“I’m really glad you’re okay, little sis,” I say, low enough that no one else hears.

She leans into me, just slightly. “You too, Finny.”

“Don’t do that again.” It comes out more stern than planned.

She huffs. “I’ll try.”

We reach the room. Rosie must have slipped ahead, because the blankets are already turned down with the pillows set. She gives me a small smile when we come through the door, and when she passes me, I catch her hand and squeeze. She squeezes back, and I have to breathe through it, the wave of it, everything she’s done without being asked and without complaint, crashing in all at once.

Rye helps Gemma into the bed with careful hands. He moves like someone who’s learned exactly where not to touch and exactly how much weight she can take. I study the man who’s in love with my sister, trying to decide whether to punch him or thank him.

“You’re insufferable,” Gemma murmurs, a smirk tugging at her mouth.

“You love me anyway,” Rye says easily, like the answer’s already settled.

She swats at him. “Don’t get cocky.”

He catches her hand, doesn’t tease, doesn’t push, just holds it.

Something happened in that cabin. Something real.

He pulls a chair close to the bed and sits, still holding her hand. He’s not going anywhere; that much is clear.

Grier hangs back near the door. Our eyes meet, and he tips his head toward the hall.

I look back at the bed. Gemma’s eyes are already closing. Rye hasn’t moved, and Rosie is settled into a chair on her other side, quiet and steady. She’s safe; she’s loved.

I follow Grier out. He walks until we’re clear of the room, then stops and turns.

“There are things you should know.”

I lean back against the wall and fold my arms. “I figured.”

“Rye knows you’re her brother.”

That lands harder than expected. “How?”

“I told him. He was coming apart. I made the call.”

I nod. If Grier made it, then it was the right one.

“What else does he know?”

“Nothing. Not why you’re here, nothing about your mother. That’s hers to tell.”

I take that in and set it aside for now. “And Northpine?”