oldest of the bunch, maybe eight, with the same black curls but she’s wearing a pink robe.
Echo frowns and I have to admit I’m with her. This kid stares at the ground, eyes filled with tears, and her lower lip trembles. The mom and the dad both watch their oldest with a worry that causes a pain in my chest. A combination of missing having parents who would worry over me that way and my own worry over my younger brothers, who are now being taken care of by their adoptive family.
Echo takes my hand, and when I glance over at her, she flickers her eyes from me to the child.
I tilt my head to let her know I see that the kid’s upset, but then Echo subtly shakes her head. She moves her arm, then inclines her head to the girl. My eyebrows draw together as I look at Echo’s arm, then to the kid, and then it hits me so fast I have to quit breathing so I don’t suck in air with the blow.
Everyone in that elevator would hear that intake and would know what I had seen. Being around Echo for as long as I have, I get that such a reaction is understandable but can bring pain, and that’s the last thing I want to do.
The girl’s leg is scarred and I’m betting a beach vacation is the last thing this kid is looking forward to.
A ding, the elevator doors open, and Echo and I let the family pile out first. They head in the direction of the pool, and Echo hesitates outside the elevator doors and watches them.
She glances up at me. “I know we were planning to go to the beach and that we’re running out of time together, but do you mind if—”
“Let’s go to the pool.” I cut her off, and Echo falls into me for a hug. I put down the cooler so I can hold her tight and kiss the top of her head.
Echo has the biggest heart of anyone I know. She loves me, loves my friends, loves my brothers and loves strangers. Screw my pride. I don’t have the ring she deserves, but regardless, I’m going to ask her to marry me. I need her to know before she drives halfway across the country that it’s her I want to spend forever with.
Chapter 3
Echo
Dog bite. The girl’s name is Jane and she was bitten by a stray dog when she was playing in the front yard of her home. It happened a month and a half ago, the vacation was already planned and her parents had been hoping that coming to a place their daughter had loved so much in the past would help her break out of the shell she’s lived in since the attack, but so far, their daughter had only seemed to further withdraw.
Little Jane sits at the edge of the pool, her legs in the water, her arms wrapped tight around her body. The pink terrycloth robe still on. The poor thing is sweating to death in the unforgiving hot August sun.
Noah and I sit on a beach chair side by side listening to Jane’s mother explain the events and how they unfolded. I walked up to this woman, politely asked what happened to her daughter, and before she could tell me to go to hell for asking, she saw my arms and sank to the chair. She’s been explaining things since.
In the pool, her husband plays with the toddler who was throwing a fit earlier and the two laugh and laugh often. Her husband often tries to entice Jane to play, but Jane ignores him and I understand why. Being in a shell is hard to break out of, even if you want to. Noah Hutchins helped me break out of mine. I have only a few minutes to spare, but I’d like to be a stepping-stone to help Jane break out of hers.
The woman places the chubby baby on a cushion of blanket on the ground and then hands the sitting baby some sort of biscuit. A squeal of delight and the baby begins to gnaw away. I glance over at Noah helplessly. I wouldn’t have a freaking clue how to take care of one of those things on my own. The ends of Noah’s mouth edge up as if he’s reading my mind. He, of course, due to his younger brothers, has changed hundreds of diapers and probably knows what