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Peering from Kain to Fran, I asked flatly, “What am I missing?”

“It’s personal,” Francesca said. Grabbing the pile of wet napkins from the juice spill, she slammed them into the trash. “Family stuff.”

“Family stuff,” I repeated. “All right.”

Resting his forehead on his fist, Kain eyed his sister. “It doesn’t have to be a big secret, Fran. What happened between Costello and Lula—”

“It didn’t just happen to them,” she said sharply.

Kain narrowed his eyes. “Funny, you always act like it’syoueverything happened to.”

“Oh!” She scowled, flailing her hands like she was going to slap him. He gripped her wrists, stopping her before she could get far. Scooting my chair away, I stood quickly. I wasn’t going to get a black eye from some crazy sibling fight.

Kain didn’t stand, he remained where he was with her stuck firmly in front of him. “Frannie, listen. You’ve been taking this grudge too far.”

Seething, she said, “Screw you, Kain. I’ll be pissed as long as I want.”

“And how long is that?”

“For as long as he’s around!”

“Fran, he didn’t make her leave!”

“He did!”That was her breaking point; she wrenched away, and I knew Kain let her go, because I’d felt his grip before. He could have held her there for hours.

Without another word, Francesca stomped from the kitchen. I heard her feet clomping down the hall, then up the stairs ... and then nothing.

Ever so slowly, I looked back at Kain. He was sitting there with his hands on the table, shoulders knotted like he was still busy holding his sister in front of him.

I clapped my hands sharply; he jumped. “Kain, it’s all right, you don’t need to tell me what’s going on. I get it.”

He snagged my arm, pulling me into his lap. I started to argue, but his sudden, hungry embrace shut me up. Kain circled me fully, his warmth ... his strain ... full of so much more than I could understand.

Whatever had happened to this family, it had left a wound that was still raw.

The day vanished with everyone passing like ships in the night.

Hawthorne disappeared—presumably to shop for his mother.

I had no clue where Costello was.

Maverick dragged Kain off into the den to talk in heated secrecy.

And Fran ... well, I caught her whispering with Lulabelle in the room I’d slept in accidentally that one night. The door was shut, but through the wood, their voices were buzzing. I caught no words, I only grasped that one of them was upset.

I was sure I heard crying.

When the sky finally turned purple and Hawthorne returned with bags, I decided I should get ready for whatever “celebration” they were going to concoct. Francesca wasn’t in her room, so I helped myself to one of the outfits she’d set aside for me once it became clear I’d be here for a while.

It was a simple thing—well, simple for Fran. Just a long, white dress, the edges lacy and the top tying around my neck. Studying myself in the mirror, I gave a spin, watching how the cloth rippled.

It almost looks like a wedding dress.Not one I’d ever choose, no, but I could see someone wearing something similar.My wedding dress would have lots of ribbons, probably a mermaid design, and ...Gripping the hem, I stopped short.

Why the fuck am I thinking about that?

Yeah, I’d fantasized about a wedding with Kain way back when, but that had been just silly fun. Nothing serious.

Get a grip.Standing tall, I breathed in—then out.Date the guy once this mess is done, then maybe think about marriage, jeez.