“I’ve been a shit brother to you, Mal,” Declan says finally. “For years. I just— I’m not gonna lie, I didn’t give a crap about you when we were kids. Too caught up in my own stuff. And you weren’t … I don’t know. Enough like me for me to pay attention.” A muscle in his cheek jumps, his eyes still on the porch. “Then everything went to hell and I took off. I didn’t think about you then, either. Not for years. So I’m not sure why I expected you to be on my side when somebody found my class ring at a murder site.”
My throat’s uncomfortably dry, but I don’t want any more beer. “I should’ve realized you didn’t have anything to do with that.”
Declan shrugs. “Why? We barely know each other. And I’m the adult, or so they tell me. So that’s on me.” He opens the cooler again and pulls out a ginger ale, holding it out to me. I hesitate, and he takes the beer from my hand, setting it down on a nearby table. “Come on, Mal. That’s not you.”
I take the ginger ale. “I don’t know what’s going to happen with Mom.”
“I don’t either. That shit’s not great. We’ll figure it out, though. You guys can get a place near Daisy and me. Solsbury’s all right.” He grins and takes a sip of beer. “The regulars at Bukowski’s Tavern aren’t half bad when you get to know them.”
The tightness in my chest loosens. “Good to know.”
A wisp of a cloud passes over the sun, briefly shading Declan’s face. “You talk to Katrin?” he asks.
“No,” I say. She ended up cooperating fully with the DA’s office, handing off one final piece of evidence: Brooke’s cell phone case. Katrin had found it the day Peter organized the search party, after she’d gone digging through his office looking for a phone charger. Apparently Peter destroyed Brooke’s phone but kept the case—as though it were some kind of sick trophy. Just like he had with Lacey’s ring.
It wasn’t something you’d find in a store—Brooke had made it herself with a clear case, dried flowers, and nail polish. It was one of a kind, and when Katrin saw it tucked away like that, she knew her father was involved. Instead of turning him in, she’d re-created one of Viv’s anonymous threats to try to deflect attention.
Katrin’s lawyer painted as sympathetic a picture of her as he could. He claimed Peter had methodically estranged Katrin from her mother for years so he could control and manipulate her, to the point where she was totally dependent on him and unable to distinguish right from wrong. A different type of victim from Lacey and Brooke—but still a victim.
And maybe she was. Is. I don’t know, because I haven’t answered the one text she sent me since she was released into her aunt’s custody. Katrin isn’t allowed out of the country, and her mother’s not willing to move here.
He’s all I have.
I didn’t answer. Not only because it wasn’t true—she’d had me and my mom, at the very least, plus her aunt and even Theo and Viv—but because I can’t think about my stepsister without remembering the last time I saw Brooke in her driveway, glancing back at me over her shoulder before she went inside. Fifteen minutes later, according to police, she slipped out again to meet up with Peter.
I don’t think I can ever accept the fact that Katrin knew Peter was involved in her best friend’s disappearance, and stood by him anyway. Maybe one of these days, when everything is less raw, I can try to understand what it was like to grow up with that toxic sewer for a father. But two weeks after he tried to kill me isn’t that time.
“Probably a good thing. That whole family’s rotten to the core,” Declan says, taking another long pull at his bottle. “Anyway, you and Mom should come over for dinner this week. Daisy and I bought a grill.”
I start laughing. “Holy hell. You bought a grill. You’re holding babies. What’s next, suburban dad? You gonna start talking about your lawn?”
Declan narrows his eyes, and for a second I think I’ve gone too far. Then he grins. “There are worse fates, little brother. Much worse fates.” He turns toward the porch again, shading his eyes against the sun. Ellery has her hands clasped stiffly in front of her as she talks to Ryan’s sister. “Why are you still over here yapping at me? Go get your girl.”
“She’s not my—” I start, and Declan shoves me. Only a little too hard.
“Don’t be such a wuss, Mal,” he instructs, pulling the ginger ale from my hand. But he smiles when he says it.
So I leave him, crossing the yard toward the porch. Ellery spots me when I’m about halfway there and waves. She says something to her half sister, then bounds down the stairs with an energy that sets my nerves jumping. I’ve seen her only a couple of times since we left the hospital, always with some combination of Ezra, Mia, or her grandmother around. I even saw Sadie briefly before she went back to rehab. Ellery and I aren’t alone here either, but for a few seconds in the middle of the backyard, everybody else fades away and it feels like it.
“Hey,” she says, stopping within a foot of me. “I was hoping you’d be here.” Her eyes flick over my shoulder to Declan. “How’d that go?”
“Better than expected. How are things with your new half siblings?”
“Same,” she says. “Better than expected. They’re nice. I’m not as comfortable with the other two as I am with Ryan, though. Ezra’s fitting in more easily than I am. As usual.” She brushes a stray curl off her temple. “How are you feeling?”
“Other than the headaches? Not too bad. No permanent effects. That’s what the doctors say, anyway.”
“Me too.” She hesitates. “I mean … I guess the nightmares will go away eventually.”
“I hope so.” I wait a beat, then add, “Listen, I’m really sorry you didn’t get any closure about your aunt. I know that would have meant a lot to your family. If it’s any consolation … even if you didn’t hear him say it, I’m pretty sure we know. You know?”
“I know. I just wish—” Her eyes get bright with tears, and before I can think too much about what I’m doing I pull her into my arms. She leans her head on my chest and I bury my face in her hair. For a few seconds I feel something I haven’t experienced since I was a little kid, before my parents started fighting and my brother either ignored or taunted me. Hope.
“It’ll be all right,” I say into her hair.
Her voice is muffled against my shirt. “How? How are we supposed to get past something like this?”
I look over her head at the porch, where Declan’s rejoined Daisy and they’re talking with Ryan and Mrs. Corcoran. Ezra’s gotten off the porch railing to hold the baby again, and Mia’s making faces at it. The Kilduffs arrived at some point, and even though my mother’s not here, I can almost picture her venturing into something like this one day. Forgiving herself for believing a monster’s lies. We all have to figure out a way to do that. “Just living, I guess,” I finally say.