CHAPTER 3

“From the nest they must fall.”

~Isadora Patras

IN THE WEEKS leading up to Lucian’s departure, Isadora savored any moment her brother graced their home with his presence, though such instances were few and far between. She chose her battles carefully. No longer waiting up in the kitchen at night, but rather, worrying from her bed and only resting once the shuffle of his footsteps echoed through the house, announcing he’d returned home safe and sound.

Soon enough he’d be on his own and she didn’t want to be an enemy he left behind. But she loved him and that meant worrying about him and suffering silently.

He was changing and that was changing her, too. It had always been the three of them and every day that passed he amputated more of his part of the puzzle from their whole.

Dominant men, like her father, could not be told what to do. Lucian was no different and she sympathized with any woman who dared to love him in the future. The impenetrable armor he’d donned since becoming an adult hid every tender part of him from the outside world—including her and Toni. Though she would miss him when he left, there was nothing quite as excruciating as missing someone living in the same home.

He seemed oblivious to how his emotional withdrawal affected her. She missed her little brother, even though he was still living there. Perhaps this was some cruel trick the universe played to make it easier to push birds from the nest when it was time for them to fly on their own. Her wings had been clipped the day her father left and she feared she’d eventually be left all alone in an empty nest, too afraid to fly after her own dreams—whatever they might be. Today was Lucian’s day to fly away.

As Lucian gave Shamus Callahan a brief hug goodbye, her mind touched on other goodbyes and lingered around fading memories of their mother.

Their parents should have been standing there for this moment in their son’s life. Their mother always took such pride in her children’s milestones. Isadora had grieved such a defining loss long ago, but moments like this, moments when one of them shined, always seemed to prick at the fraying threads that mended the gaping hole in her heart where her mother used to live.

When her brother’s dark stare met hers, Isadora pasted on a brave smile. “You have everything?”

Those flat, onyx eyes rolled as he held out his arms, engulfing her with too much strength for a man his age. “Yes, Isa,” he mumbled, his deep voice full of dry tolerance.

She savored the momentary truce between them, hoping this was the end of their recent scrimmage for the upper hand and they could once again occupy an even playing field.

Taking advantage of the hug, she squeezed him tight. “Make sure you eat and don’t forget to get your books before they sell out.”

He let go and she fought the urge to pull him back and pamper him with a hundred more maternal suggestions. He was leaving, yet she couldn’t seem to picture him gone.

Since their father left and their mother’s presence had faded, Isadora had taken her brother’s nearness for granted. She’d once considered running away, shortly after their mother’s funeral. She’d stood at the front door with a bag in her hand and the provocation to leave burning the hole in her heart a bit deeper than it already was.

As the knob turned in her hand Lucian’s little voice broke the silence. “Where are you going, Isa? You’re not leaving too, are you?”

She’d paused, incapable of explaining to a boy of ten how a father could be so selfish as to abandon his children only weeks after burying their mother. Maybe part of him believed their dad would come back a changed man. But Isadora knew the truth. She knew his absence would steal every opportunity that was her due.

“You’ll be fine.” The lie tasted bitter on her tongue. She was not a replacement for their mother, any more than a nanny.

His little brow pinched as his dark eyes—too big for his face— shimmered up at her. “But we have to stay together—the three of us. We’re a family. Remember?”

She’d stared into his sad, young eyes, realizing his fear was a thousand times bigger than hers. It was then she understood she couldn’t take the easy way out. She could never act like their father and turn her back on those she loved.

And Lucian wasn’t running away now. He was moving on and she was both happy and heartbroken.

Part of her harbored a great deal of envy for the experience he was about to embark on. She’d been ordered to sit at the grownup table when her feet could hardly reach the floor, never being offered the chance to run away to college. She couldn’t reach her future when her father’s neglect sealed her to her past.

Years spent trying to make their broken family whole had certainly come at a cost, but she refused to regret what she’d forfeited. Every sacrifice had been her choice. And the reward was watching her little brother go forward in his life—no matter how much it hurt to see him leave.

Unlike the little boy who stopped her at the door, she wouldn’t stop him now. She was a grown woman and understood goodbyes were a part of life.

She swallowed back any sense of injustice and embraced the positive. Lucian’s progress was a reflection of her sacrifices and she was proud of him. Proud of all of them.

He bent to Toni’s height and gave her ponytail a firm yank. “You be good, brat.”

Their sister threw her arms around his shoulders and he lifted her like a ragdoll, squeezing her tight.

“Bring me back something cool,” Toni instructed.

Lucian lowered her feet to the ground and nodded.

“You got it.”

Carrying the last of his bags to the idling SUV, he turned and gave them one final nod. A sharp pinch stabbed in her chest as she watched the door to the SUV close. Trying to see his face through the tinted glass was useless.

As the car pulled away she focused on holding all of her confused emotions inside so as not to upset her sister or make a blubbering mess of herself in front of Shamus.

Toni’s fingers gripped her hand tightly as the childlike sound of her sniffles competed with the crunching gravel. The shock of her sister’s upset was enough to stifle Isadora’s own tears.

Forcing a smile, she faced Shamus, who held Toni’s other hand. Lucian’s friend forced a smile, as though every little sniffle from Toni’s nose was cutting right into his sensitive heart.

“You’re upsetting Shamus,” Isadora teased and Toni gaped at Lucian’s friend, her big brown eyes glassy and too large for her little face.

Glancing at Toni, his brow creased, his mouth twisting with mock skepticism. “You better cry like this when I leave next year, brat.”

“You’re only going to school down the road. It won’t be the same. Lucian’s going to be all the way in the city.” But Toni’s grip noticeably tightened.

Isadora smiled at the sweet way her sister and Shamus always teased each other. Their special bond filled moments like this with light banter rather than sorrow.