Page 83 of Oathbreaker

A long, slow exhale. “We mourned him, Briar. Grieved him. How do we move on from that?”

I still. Because I know exactly what he’s feeling.

The hurt. The anger.

But, more importantly, the knowledge that changed everything for me.

“We lost him,” I murmur. “But we’ve been given a gift, honey. A second chance. A way to make a life—a better one—with someone we grieved so intensely that we named a bar after him and celebrated his birthday for five years even though we thought he was dead.”

His expression softens, and I know that I have him—at least a little bit.

So, I keep pressing.

“He’s one of us. He’s our family,” I remind him. “And if I can forgive him after all that went down between him and me, you guys can too.”

Suddenly, his scowl is back.

And I know why.

Because Atlas is starting to agree with me.

And he doesn’t like it.

I push up from the chair, round his desk, and bend to kiss his cheek, to wrap my arms around his shoulders and squeeze. “I knew you’d see it my way.”

“I didn’t say I agreed.”

I straighten. “You didn’t have to.”

Then I start for the door, toss over my shoulder, “The jet’s waiting for you.”

“What?”

“You’re flying out tonight for Lily’s concert.”

He blinks.

I grin.

“Lily’s bringing the red lipstick.”

He jerks, cheeks going the slightest bit pink.

Then…he smiles.

And, since my work here is done, I head out the door.

“How was school, baby?” I ask as I turn on the car and back out of my spot.

“I’m not a baby,” she says pertly. “I’m four and three quarters.”

My lips twitch, but I don’t laugh like I want to. “Sorry to say, Frankie,” I tell her. “But you’ll always be my baby—even when you’re old.”

“Like when I’m nineteen?”

This time I do laugh.

Because…from the mouths of babes.