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“Yes.”
“You…” she started, her gaze roaming around my face, her eyes filling up with something. “Ah crap.”
I frowned but our little boxed friend moved, bringing our attention back to where it should have been. “I’m guessing that picking up stuff from the street is a no-go around here.”
The left corner of Rosie’s lips twitched. “I’d probably stay away from basements, too.”
“Fair enough.” I sighed. “All right, I’ll take our little friend out to the street or… to a park?” I frowned. “You know what, I’ll google what to do with it. Just, come down from there when I close this door, okay? You’re safe.”
Because invader rodent or not, I had promised Rosie that much.
And I wasn’t going to forget that.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Rosie
Olly was blowing us off. Again.
After he’d promised he’d be here, that he would come to prime the walls of Dad’s studio after he had asked for our help.
The worst part, though, was the realization that Dad didn’t need any help. The fact that I was standing behind him holding the bottle of multisurface soap while he did all the work was proof enough. He’d asked for help just so he would get us here. Just so he’d have an excuse to see his children. See Olly.
God, I wanted to shake my little brother. What the hell was wrong with him?
“Are you sure you should be doing this?” I asked him, closing some of the distance so I could see his face. “Your hip okay, Dad? We could take a break and have something to eat.”
“I’m fine, Bean,” he said quickly.
Ugh, not theI’m fineroutine.
Snatching the sponge out of his hand, I stood by his side until he looked at me. And when he finally did, reluctantly, his expression confirmed that he wasn’t, in fact, fine. “Liar, liar, pants on fire.”
Dad chuckled, and I kissed his forehead just so I wouldn’t shake him, too.
“Just a little worried, is all,” he finally admitted with a sigh. “Have you heard from your brother? He’s coming, isn’t he?”
“I… Yes.” I busied myself with the sponge so he wouldn’t see my face. “Let me see if I have any missed calls from him. He’s probably just running late.”
Dad snatched the sponge back. “I’ll finish this off while you do. We’re only missing a few spots.”
“We?” I muttered as I turned to fish my phone out of my bag.
Not a text, not a call, nothing.
I texted him again.
Where are you, Olly? I’m at Dad’s and it’s already 6PM. You said you would come.
Then, I invented an excuse for him with Dad, the man who had fought tooth and nail to keep us afloat while making us feel loved every single day, even when he couldn’t spend much time at home. “Olly might be on the train, maybe without reception?” I explained, hoping Dad bought the lie. “I’ll try again in a bit.”
Dad sighed. It was a quiet sound that most people would have overlooked, but I knew it well. It was the Olly sigh. Because Dad blamed himself for whatever was going on with my brother.
Almost as much as I did.
I was about to attempt to reassure him when a female voice entered the room. “How’s my favorite neighbor doing?”
I turned to find a woman with graying hair high in a bun, her eyes twinkling with warmth and humor.
