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The fireplace was burning, providing some needed heat.Colum had been cold earlier, but now he was pleasantly warm.He drew in a deep breath, loving the smell of a turf-burning fire.It never failed to remind him of this place, of home.

He stepped closer to the fire, his hands reaching toward it to draw in more heat.

“What are you doing here?”

Colum jerked his head to the right, shocked to the very core when he saw Josephine curled up in Eric’s favorite chair.

“Josephine?”he asked, rubbing his eyes.

“You’re not supposed to be here,” she said, scowling like he was doing something wrong.“It’s too early.”

Colum ran his hand through his hair, feeling for a lump.He must have banged his head or something.All he could recall was cleaning the newly discovered page of Oscar’s manuscript, the noxious smell, and then…

Jaysus.

“Am I dead?”he asked his sister.

She rolled her eyes as if his question was ridiculous.“Of course not.You’re not supposed to be here,” she repeated, like it was his fault he was.

Colum looked around the cottage, lifting his arms.“I’m not even sure where here is because?—”

“It’s Eric’s cottage,” Josephine responded.

“But the cottage doesn’t look like this anymore.It’s gone to seed.”

Josephine tilted her head, looking at him like he was six eggs short of a dozen.“It’s still in here,” she said, tapping her temple.“Therefore, it’ll always exist.Even so, you really need to leave, Colum.”

His temper spiked.“I haven’t seen you in years and all you can say is leave?For Christ’s sake, Sorcha…”

Josephine narrowed her eyes.She’d always hated when he called her by her middle name, which was why he’d done it a lot when she was alive.Their sibling bond was bound tight, but that didn’t mean they didn’t get a kick out of picking on each other.

“I’ve fecking missed you.I’ve fecking mourned you!”

Josephine’s features softened.“I know you have, brother dear.”

“And not just me.Nyx, the Librarians, Eric,” Colum started.“He fell apart after you died.”

Josephine huffed out a quiet breath that was half laugh, half exasperation.“Ah, Eric.He never could get out of his own way, could he now?”

She made a fair point, given Eric’s shitty handling of his feelings for Nikolett.Colum walked over to the couch, sitting on the end closest to her.

Josephine opened her mouth, no doubt to tell him to get out again, but wild horses wouldn’t pull him away from her.

“I’m not leaving,” he stated boldly.“I can’t.Please, let me stay with you.”

Josephine sighed.“Only for a few minutes.You really aren’t supposed to be here.”

He considered asking why, but that didn’t feel as important as the million other things racing through his mind.There were so many things he needed to say to her.So many things he’d regretted since her untimely death.

“I fell apart too.”He lowered his head, ashamed of how he’d turned to alcohol to numb the pain, how he’d buried himself in his work, cutting himself off from everyone and everything.

Josephine reached out, taking his hand in hers, and Colum had to swallow back the lump in his throat.

“I’m so sorry,” he said, his words thick with unshed tears.“For everything.For…”

Josephine squeezed his hand.“Don’t.Don’t say that.Don’t even feel it.Because you have nothing to be sorry for.”

If only that were true.“I should have gone to dinner with you that night.I should have?—”