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“Doesn’t matter.”

“It matters.”

I shake my head.

She doesn’t argue.

Instead, she shifts beside me until our shoulders touch.

“Do you remember the summer Eli spent helping you rebuild that old Mustang?”

I blink.

“What?”

“He came into the bakery every afternoon covered in grease. Wouldn’t shut up about it.”

A faint smile pulls at my mouth.

“He stripped half the bolts.”

“He told everyone he was going to open a shop with you someday.”

“Yeah.”

“He was so proud to be your little brother, Gray.”

My chest tightens.

“He thought you hung the moon.”

“He was a dumb kid.”

“He was a happy kid.”

I close my eyes.

Autumn rests her head against my shoulder.

“Do you really think Eli would want you spending the rest of your life punishing yourself?”

I try to answer.

Nothing comes out.

Because I can picture him.

Seventeen. Grinning. Grease on his cheek.

Quit being such a miserable bastard, Grim.

That’s exactly what he’d say.

Probably while stealing my tools.

A laugh catches in my throat.

Then something else.