“Those are fights worth taking on. But I think we all need a certain amount of grace, too. Grace to let go of things we no longer have control over. Let it run wild. Because when we do—” I shrugged “—sometimes we run to a better place.”
“Remember that,” he muttered. Then he seemed to study me a bit harder. “Tell me about Roisin.”
I turned to look at her space, seeing a picture of me on her grave, though it wasn’t me. We only shared the same reflection. “Like I said, car accident. I had thrown a fit about her getting the lead in some Broadway show. I threw such a fit that I held my breath and passed out. It was the first time I’d ever done something like that. So my grandparents offered to take Roisin so she wouldn’t be late. My parents took me to the emergency room because they thought something was really, really wrong with me. I was diagnosed with a temper tantrum. None of us made it to her show that night. They were hit on the way.”
“Half of you died with her, and nothing’s been the same ever since.”
“It’s almost unexplainable to someone who doesn’t share that kind of bond. You understand.” I looked up at him, and even though I expected it, it still shocked me—his eyes had softened some. Then, in an instant, they hardened. They were so hard that it almost felt like he was stoning me with his thoughts.
I opened and closed my hands, feeling uneasy all of a sudden. Cold. Warm. Cold. Warm. I had thought it was the weather, and maybe having someone to share this moment with, but I came to the conclusion that it was him. He was sending me weird vibes.
“I gotta run now, Mr. Kelly. Have a nice chat with your old man.”
“Ms. Ryan,” he said, tipping his hat, watching me as I left.
I hustled to get out of there, feeling out of breath by the time I reached my old car. Something about the way he said my name led me to believe that in his mind he was actually thinking, Take care, Ms. Ryan. I’ll see you soon.
How the fuck was he going to see me soon when he didn’t even know me? I hit the gas harder than I ever had before, my old car wheezing with complaint, trying to outrun his memory, but even after I got home, I still felt like he was watching me. He was as beautiful as he was threatening.
He’ll get an arrow in his ass before he comes close to me or mine.
Then another thought slammed into me, harder than anything ever had before, and I had to sit down and catch my breath.
Why would Roisin send someone like him to me?
3
Keely
In moments of complete weakness, sometimes I had talks with Roisin in my head. After the accident, when she was ripped from my side, I cried nonstop. I couldn’t stop crying. I was five, and my best friend in the entire world had left me all alone with a house full of boys.
Harrison, Lachlan, Declan, and Owen.
Only twelve months after Owen was born, the twins, also known as RoKe, made our arrival into the world. If anything, Roisin and I had always irritated the boys, but it was always us doing whatever it was against them.
My sister’s death came, and even at five years old, I knew that half of me had died with her. And I desperately wanted it back. I wanted to feel whole again. So I started having conversations with her.
I refused to let anyone else hear me, so I carried the chats on in my head.
It was about that time my Mam said that I stopped talking. I didn’t remember not talking. Maybe because the conversations in my head with Roisin were enough. But I did remember asking her to send me another sister, another her, so the hurt in my heart would go away.
The spring after Roisin left me, I knew she had heard me. I had been outside with Harrison when I saw a little girl with a blue butterfly clip in her hair standing in our next-door neighbor’s yard. I had no idea they had kids, but Harrison told me they had adopted her. The little girl had been there since December, but she rarely came out of the house.
Jocelyn, who was our next-door neighbor, stood next to her and introduced us. She called the