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Nikko continues. “I know you’re not drinking or doing drugs because that’s not your style. And it’s not gambling because, again, that’s not what you do. There’s also the fact that you can’t go anywhere around here without being recognized.”

“Right.”

“You’re seeing somebody, aren’t you?”

I stop walking.

The frozen pond is still a hundred yards ahead of us. The wind is coming off it now, cold enough to make my eyes water. I push my hands deeper into my coat pockets.

“Fox,” Nikko says quietly. “I’ve been trying to give you space to tell me on your own. But you’re not sleeping. You’re distracted. And I’m your brother, so I’m asking.”

I look at the pond, and for a hot minute, I try to figure out how to lie to him.

Then I give up because I’ve been lying to Nikko for ten years, and I’m tired.

“There’s someone.”

“How long have you been seeing him?”

“A while.”

“How long is a while?”

He’s watching me. I can feel it.

“At first it wasn’t serious,” I say. “That was the whole point. It was… It was easy. It was supposed to stay easy.”

“How long have you been seeing him?”

“Ten years.”

He stops in front of me and turns around. “Ten years?”

I nod. His eyes are searching, and I’m too tired to pretend.

“When did it stop being easy?”

“What?”

“You said it was supposed to stay easy. Given the fact that you can’t stay away from him, it’s no longer easy.”

I laugh, but it comes out strained. “I don’t know. Somewhere early on, I stopped seeing other people. Then I started counting the days between visits, and at some point in the last two years, I stopped being able to sleep in hotel rooms the night before I knew I was going to see him.”

Nikko is very still beside me.

“Fox, are you fucking Finn?”

“Nikko.”

I turn my head sharply and look around the field as if there’s a chance anyone within a mile could have heard him.

“Fox, nobody’s here.”

“Bastian is somewhere on this farm.”

“Bastian isn’t here.”

“Nikko, you cannot say anything to him.”