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My sister was the worst.

“I wasn’t there for you.”

“I’m so sorry. I suck, here let me bake you bread.”

“I’ll watch the baby!”

“All men suck.”

I genuinely think she thought she was helping when she really wasn’t. I missed Ace. He’d freaking killed that woman in cold blood and within a day we had a hand written note announcing he was the new boss of La Nebbia.

Just like that, anther De Lange had chosen sides.

Dad actually smiled when he read the note like the news made him happy. Ivan did the same thing. Clearly, they had alllost their minds. When I asked them anything about Ace they refused to answer me.

A knock sounded at my door. Bella waltzed in, radiant in her white sun dress. “Hey, I’m going to take Lily with me for a picnic under the tree—it’s like five feet from the house, but it’s good to be outside.”

She was already reaching for her before I could answer.

“Oh,” She made a face. “Maybe put on some lip gloss and…pants.”

I wasn’t wearing pants?

I looked down.

I was in nothing but Ace’s long T-shirt. “Right.”

“Go out front, I heard you had a package.” She shrugged like it was normal for me to get packages at my dad’s house, which it wasn’t. In fact, most packages weren’t even delivered to the house on account of they could go boom and kill us all.

Intrigued, I put on a pair of jeans and added a fresh new T-shirt. I slammed a black hat on and power walked down the hall. Where were all the men? Weird.

I made it to the front door and frowned. Why was it already open?

I took a step outside and stared.

Ace stood on the front porch.

He was wearing a fitted black suit that looked too good on him. Messy hair still present, he shoved his hands into his pocket. “You like words, right?”

I smiled through my tears. “I’ve been told I talk too much.”

“I believe it.” He took another step toward me. “And poems, do you like those?”

“Yes.”

“I have one for you, some might call it a famous poem, I call it a riddle, would you like to hear it? Since your life is mine?”

Hot tears burned the backs of my eyes. “Since our lives are yours—I’ll listen.”

“I’ll only ask one question after and then I’ll leave.”

It was on the tip of my tongue to say don’t. Instead I just stood there. “Alright.”

He reached for me and grabbed both hands in his.

“The Road Not Taken.”

My tears spilled over onto my cheeks. “By Robert Frost.”