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Izabeth and Rainey are my family, but I’m not about to use my niece as a pseudo-therapist. Where I stand with Logan hangs in limbo. Izabeth is all I have. She’s all I’ve had for most of my adult life, I just ignored it and clung to hope I should have buried long ago. I feel no pressure to tell her anything right now, but I have to get it all out to someone.
“Here.” Iz offers me one of the steaming cups she holds, interrupting my frantic thoughts.
“Our visit with Dunbar went terrible on Tuesday. He threw a vase at my head and it shattered against the wall.”
Her jaw drops, and her eyes widen. She’s witnessed the entire toxic nosedive my relationship with my brother took. She’s heard the threats and anger hurled at me, but she also knows he’s never physically harmed me.
“Seriously?” It’s as unexpected to her as it was to me. “Are you okay? Oh my God, I’m so sorry, Noah.”
“I’m fine, but Rae saw everything.” I tell her about Chase’s visit afterward and how Logan pushed me to call Chase.
“You weren’t going to call?”
“I might have. I can’t say for sure. Dunbar just got out of jail, and I didn’t want to cause more issues for him this soon.”
“More issues forhim?” Her voice raises sharply. “What aboutyou? What abouthis daughter?” It’s the same argument Logan pulled to the surface. They’re the same thoughts I’ve swallowed down for years when I wondered whyIdidn’t deserve better.
“That was Tuesday evening,” I continue without acknowledging her rhetorical questions. “Someone broke into our house yesterday. It’s a complete disaster.” Remembering Logan over the toilet causes me to cry out.
When the tears start, I can’t contain them. Loud sobs rattle my body, and Iz sets her cup down to envelop me. She leans in and whispers non-patronizing words of comfort. “Take a deep breath,” she reminds me, and I do because I don’t want a repeat performance of last night.
I rub my shirtsleeve across my face, collecting the wetness left behind by the sad thought of my destroyed home and relationship.
“Paul and one of his partners checked everything out. They took fingerprints. We inventoried everything and made a list of what’s missing.” The calm I’d created with deep breathing is gone when I say, “They stole Logan’s wife’s wedding ring.”
Izabeth winces and closes her eyes. “Do they know who did it?” We both know the answer is obvious.
“The fingerprint database returned two hits. My brother was one. Shocking, right?”
“And the other?”
“The buddy he’s registered to be living with.”
“Fuck.” Izabeth hisses. My sentiments exactly.
“Did they arrest them?”
“Not as of last night. Paul’s working on it.”
“Paul will find him,” Iz says with confidence that surprises me. “Do you need a ride to pick up Rae?”
“No. Logan’s aunt, Claire, is keeping the girls home from school today.”
“Okay. How can I help?”
“God, you don’t need to do anything. You’ve done too much already.”
“If you don’t tell me how I can help, you know I’m going to guess and start doing random things until you do. Make me useful and just tell me what would help you today.” She puts her hand over mine.
Iknowwhat I need, but I feel awful for even considering asking. I also know from experience she’s not bluffing. She’ll start choosing random ways to contribute, do those, and often create extra work. I don’t have time for extra work. “I need to sort through the mess at my place and clean at some point.”
“Give me a minute to get ready,” she says and stands.
“It’s Thursday, Iz. You have work.”
“Not today I don’t. I have a ridiculous amount of personal days saved up—one of the few benefits of overworking myself.”
Paul texts me as Iz drives me home, relaying the time of my locksmith appointment. Whichever of the two thieves did the actual breaking in part cut the doorknob off my back door.
