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"He said he’d be home the next morning," she explains, the words tumbling out now."But he never came back.I thought maybe he was still with you."

I keep my voice steady."No, I haven’t seen him since we had dinner."

She hesitates."Did anything happen between you two?"

"Nothing out of the ordinary," I say, making my voice casual."He wouldn’t hear me out.We argued, and I left him at the pub."

“For the record, I don’t think Ri is right keeping you in the dark.You have just as much right to this Syndicate as he does.”

There’s a pause, then she asks, “So, I guess this means you’re not coming home?”

My chest tightens.“I was willing to compromise,” I say carefully.“I told Ruairi I’d come home for a visit as long as Eamon could come with me, but he refused.”

Bridget sighs.“Try to see this from his point of view.Eamon’s his enemy.You’re asking him to welcome the man he’s at war with into his home.”

“Eamon wasn’t his enemy until Ruairi made him one,” I say, defensiveness creeping into my tone.

“I don’t want to fight with you.That’s not why I called.”She goes quiet.“I’m really starting to worry about Ruari.I’ve been calling and texting him," Bridget explains."At first, I thought he just needed space, but it’s been too long."

I exhale slowly like I'm thinking."Why didn't you reach out sooner?"

"I didn’t want to make things worse if you and he needed time," she trails off, uncertain.“You know how your brother can be.”

"Cian mentioned that there was some trouble brewing with one of their Derry contacts," I say, thinking aloud."They wanted Ruairi involved directly.Maybe he decided to handle it while he was here.It would make sense."

"You really think so?"she asks a thread of desperate hope in her voice.

"It’s possible," I say."You know how he is when he gets something in his head.He shuts everyone out until it’s done."

"Yeah," she says, but she doesn't sound convinced.

"Maybe check with Ronan," I suggest, shifting the weight off myself."If anyone knows where Ruairi is, it’ll be him."

"Okay," she says, latching onto the suggestion."I’ll give him a call."

"Let me know what you hear," I offer like I'm not choking on the lie.

We hang up, and I set my phone down on the counter, staring at it like it might come to life and expose me for what I really am.

A liar.

A traitor.

A Quigley.

I press my palms to the counter, forcing a breath into lungs that don’t want to obey.

I chose this path.There’s no turning back now.

Even if it damns me.

Even if it tears everything I love to pieces.

Eamon

The tires grind softlyagainst the asphalt, the low thrum of the engine filling the quiet as I lean back in my seat, phone pressed to my ear.

"Give me an update," I say, my voice clipped.