with them only a step behind.
“You tell her.”
“No, you.”
“I don’t want to.”
“Neither do I!”
“Tell her.”
I spin on my heels, almost knock into two separate brick walls. “Tell me what?”
Liam blows out a breath and squares his shoulders as if he’s preparing for a battle. He might be, depending on what he says next. “Listen, about what happened…”
I open my mouth to stop him, because right now, my focus is on Leo and nothing and no one else. But they’re both looking at me, waiting, probably expecting me to attack them. It’s the reminder of Dad’s words that halt me.
A few days after we got back to New York, Dad sat me down, and he coaxed the details of that night out of me. I told him every painful truth and shared the burden of hatred with him. He just stared at me a moment, eyes scanning my features like Leo does. “You’re too good to carry hate in your heart, Mia, and that’s one of your best qualities and one that I’m the most grateful for. If you didn’t forgive me… if you didn’t give me a chance, then I wouldn’t know how big a heart lives inside you. I wouldn’t know my daughter. I wouldn’t know the amazing woman your papa raised you to be.” He looked down then, his lips pulled into to a frown. “People can change. And I hope that you see me as proof of that.”
I let my shoulders relax, lower my defenses, and say to the twins, “Yeah…?”
“Um…” Liam drops his gaze and rubs the back of his neck. “We just want you to know that it was us. Lucas and Logan didn’t have a lot to say.”
“And this next part—it’s not an excuse,” Lincoln says, as if they’ve rehearsed this speech.
“Linc and I—we’ve always had each other, but Lucas and Leo and Logan—it was always the three of them, and this is the first family thing we’d been included in, you know?”
“It sounds so stupid, but it’s like…” Lincoln trails off, shrugging, hands deep in his pockets. “I don’t know.”
“We felt like we had a say—”
“No,” Lincoln cuts in. “We were showing off to Luke and Logan, thinking if we said something they agreed with, then they’d think we were cool and include us in more shit.” He scoffs.
“It wasn’t right.” They say in unison.
I tilt my head, fascinated. How do they do that?
Liam adds, after eyeing me curiously, “Even after the stuff with Logan, it was like we were kept in the shadows.” They both watch me expectantly.
“I, uh…” I shake my head, fully aware that it’s not the first time Logan’s name has been mentioned in this way. And while I’m curious, I’m not going to push the issue. “I don’t know what happened with Logan.”
“Oh.” They share another look. “We thought Leo might have told you.”
Shrugging, I say, “It might not be his story to tell.”
“Like your story isn’t ours to judge?” Lincoln murmurs, almost sheepishly.
“Yeah, I guess so.”
“Look,” Liam says, taking keys from his pocket. “We understand that we ruined… everything, but Leo doesn’t deserve any of this. He’s…” He huffs out a breath.
Lincoln finishes the thought. “Don’t tell Lucas and Logan, but Leo’s always been our favorite. He’s always had time and patience with us, and we hate that he’s not talking to us.”
My eyebrows rise. “He’s not?”
“No.” They say at the same time.
Lincoln adds, “We’ve tried to reach out. Even at his graduation, but it’s like… he’s checked out.”
He’s rebooting, I want to say, but they won’t understand. “Can you take me to him?”
The twins drive no more than ten minutes and turn onto a residential, tree-lined street, then slow in front of a cozy two-story house that reminds me of the one from Gilmore Girls. The siding is painted light blue with a wrap-around porch out front, and on that porch, on his knees, is Leo Preston. He stands when he sees both cars slowing. It’s dark out now, so I’m not sure if he’s able to make out who is in the vehicles. He starts down the porch steps, nodding toward the twins’ truck. They wave, and then speed away. I pull into the driveway and park next to his truck. He’s still standing just at the bottom of the steps, his eyes narrowed in confusion. When I get out, the first thing I notice is the smell of fresh paint. The second is Leo’s expression. First shock, then… curiosity. Before he can speak, I