The Six.

If Ever I Fall.

Loveday, Sonya.

IT WAS RAINING. AGAIN. WATER splashed up with every step I took as I huddled further into my coat. I should have asked Grant for a slicker, I thought as the damp settled into my bones. Huffing out a cloud of vapor with each exhale, I quickened my step as the misty rain turned into pelting drops.

I was warned about the weather, but thought nothing of it before I got to Scotland. Since then, Iad thought of nothing but it.



Rainy.

Cold.

Windy.

Where the h.e.l.l was the sun?

In Alabama, that was where.

In the last six months, Iad traveled to five states and two islands. Iad also spent hundreds of hours on the computer, searching a mult.i.tude of databases to try to get some sort of lead on Robert de Fleur.

Half a year wasted with nothing to show for it. The trail had gone cold. With no active leads, Grant pulled me from Chicago and sent me to Scotland.

Shivering, I let myself into the back entrance of The Grounded Bean, pulling the door closed with a hard tug to ensure it shut all the way. The waterlogged wood rubbed against the jamb with a groan.

Peeling my jacket from my arms, I hung it up on the designated hook on the wall at the back of the coffee shop. Rubbing my hands together to get the blood moving in my fingers, I made my way down the short hallway and poked my head into Brendaas office. She sat behind her computer, flicking her eyes up at me when I rapped my knuckles on the door casing. She took one look at me and shook her head.

aWhat?a I asked already knowing what shead say.

aYoua"a aAmericans,a I said, cutting her off.

Her lips twitched as she schooled her features. aNow what would be making you think I would say that?a she asked, pushing herself back from the desk and crossing over to pull a clean ap.r.o.n from the hook behind the door.

I grimaced when she handed it to me. aBecause thatas what you always say. Putting me in the front again? I thought youad banished me from there?a aAye, I did. But thereas no help for it, is there, when I have inventory to sort and youare my only employee today.a It wasnat a question, but d.a.m.n me if she didnat make it sound like one. aWhat with the bairn sick, Kirsten canna bring him in. So I told her to stay home. Wead sort it out.a aThe babyas sick again?a I asked, pulling the ap.r.o.n on and tying it as I followed Brenda to the front.

aAye, thatas what I said, is it no?a she said, chuckling.

Rolling my eyes at the back of her head, I muttered under my breath, aI swear you talk like that just to confuse me.a aThat I do, lad. Now, do ye think ye can manage without breaking much today?a she asked, leaving me behind the counter as she walked over and flipped the sign from CLOSED to OPEN.

I rubbed the back of my neck, closing my eyes as I cursed Grant for what felt like the millionth time. He was the reason Iad stepped into The Grounded Bean looking for work as an American recently moved to Glasgow with the intention of making Scotland home. It was an easy enough cover story. I even had my work Visa and everything to back it. What I didnat have was any experience working customer servicea"let alone any coffeehouse experience. But Brenda had waved that away by saying I was an American and Americanas loved their coffee shops, so it should be no problem for me.

Opening my eyes on a sigh, I looked around at the gleaming metal that mocked me every time I got near enough to use it. It was like putting a fisherman in a rocket ship and expecting him to fly it. No. Just no.

Brenda rounded the counter and fired off instructions. aThe dishwasher will need emptying, and the new shipment of tea will have to be sortedaa I listened as she went down her list of things to do. Emptying the dishwasher and tea sorting, along with putting away the rest of the shipment that came in, would be easy. It was what Iad been doing since I started working, and what she decided was the best thing for me since making anything other than coffee, tea, or hot chocolate usually ended in refunds or broken dishes. I really sucked at making anything other than boiled water.

aamidday and then Iall come out and help,a Brenda continued on, not realizing Iad tuned her out. aThat should help with coverage, and then maybe Iall have time to get my office sorted.a All I heard, and was thankful for, was shead be working the counter with me in just a few short hours. Brenda, satisfied that everything was turned on, brewing, or on standby to brew, left with a quick wave of her hand as she said, aIf youall be needing anything, just call for me.a The Grounded Bean wasnat a busy coffee shop by any means, but it did hold a steady stream of customers later in the day. It was nothing like the coffee shops at home. Especially the ones located close to college campuses, like The Grounded Bean was. Every once in a while, a stray college student would come in, dump their books on the table of a booth, and settle in to do homework. From what Brenda told me, the college students usually stayed behind after cla.s.s and did their homework in the library or took it home to work on.

Looking around the coffee shop, I couldnat understand why it wasnat more popular. Along the far wall were three booths with a single light hung in the center of each, illuminating the table. A chest-high wall had been added behind the last booth to create a sitting area where people could curl up in a chair and read while they enjoyed their beverage. Music played low through the overhead speakers.

It was, by far, the coziest setting Iad ever seen in a coffee shop. Not that Iad been to a lot of them, but had I, The Grounded Bean would be the one Iad feel the most relaxed at. Brenda had recently added a couple of bookshelves, stocking them with reading material from her own collection. Pictures of quotes in all different sizes and all different styles of frames adorned the walls. I let my eyes wander from the back of the shop to the front where the sheer curtains on the windows glowed with the interior lighting as if night were coming, instead of it being morning. Outside, the rain continued falling. Headlights cut a path through the dreariness as pedestrians huddled under umbrellas. With footsteps filled with quick purpose, they hustled past, not giving the coffee shop any mind as they did.

Turning my back on the gloom, I bent to the task of unloading the dishwasher. If it werenat for the fact that I needed to get a foothold in Scotland, I would have balked against Grantas plan. But Iad learned at an early stage that Grant had his reasons for doing the things he did. When Nadia Jackson, Grantas wife, agreed whole-heartedly with the plan, there was nothing left to do but follow along with it.

Ever since the intelligence files were breached, the security was ramped up to the need-to-know basis. What I was doing while working undercover in the coffee shop hadnat hit that point, so I was forced to make the best of it until I was given other orders.

Grant and Nadia were busy with Robert De Fleur and the fiasco head caused with their son Jared, one of my best friends. It was hard to fathom that less than a year ago, Iad graduated high school and split off from the Six. I missed them terribly and wished there was a way to put all of us back together again. Unfortunately, there was no reverse b.u.t.ton on life and as much as it sucked, there wasnat a d.a.m.n thing I could do about it.

Robotically, I wiped clinging drops of water off the coffee cups and put them away, not paying attention to the quirky sayings on each mismatched cup. Brendaas taste ran towards the creative side of decorating. There was nothing, save the coffee and tea, that was the same. All the light fixtures were different, the chairs, h.e.l.l, even the benches were covered in different material, but somehow, it all came together, creating a homey feel that beckoned you to stay a while and relax.

I could almost lose myself in the atmosphere, forgetting what it was I came there for.

Three weeks earlier: aA church? You canat be serious.a My hand gripped the door on the wrong side of the car as I got out and looked up at the back side of the steeple piercing the sky.

The driveras side door closed with a soft b.u.mp and Grant moved around the back of the car, popping the trunk. My bag was thrust in front of me, and I took it without looking.

aYou can gawk at the church later. Letas get inside before the bottom falls out of the sky and drowns us both,a he said, nudging me in the shoulder to get my attention.

I tore my eyes away from the spire and walked alongside Grant to a door at the back of the church. aOur cover story is that Iam an architectural engineer, studying historical buildings abroad. Youare my son.a aWe couldnat look less alike if we tried.a aAdopted son.a I snorted with a slight shake of my head. aSo, Dad, what am I here for? Moral support?a Grant reached the door and pulled it open, gesturing for me to go first. aFor now, youare going to be an American kid freshly moved to Scotland and looking for work.a I stepped inside the church, expecting to see stained gla.s.s and pews, but found myself in what looked like a room kept for old records and retired robes.

aAre you surea Do you thinka?a The look on my face made the corner of Grantas mouth twitch. aWhatas wrong, Aiden? Devil got your tongue?a I jerked in response. aNo, the deva" No, Iam just trying to understand why weare setting up operation in G.o.das bas.e.m.e.nt.a Grant walked around a chipped statue of the Virgin Mary. At the far side of the room, he stopped, pulling a set of keys out of his pocket. aIt does seem a little odd. Being under a church, that is, but what better protection can we get than from the divine Himself?a aBut itas a church!a Grant cast a look around and then back at me before unlocking the door and opening it to reveal a set of stairs. aYes, I did notice that when I spoke to Father McKinnon about renting out the bas.e.m.e.nt. Nice fellow, Father McKinnon.a aAnd does Father McKinnon know what youare really renting the s.p.a.ce out for?a I asked.

aAye, I do.a I dropped my bag, stumbling over it as I clutched my chest. aJesus, Father, you scared the h.e.l.l out of me!a Father McKinnon was an older gentleman, dressed in a white, b.u.t.ton-down shirt that was neatly tucked inside a pair of pressed black trousers. His hands were folded neatly in front of him as he came to a stop only feet away. He had salt-and-pepper hair, neatly cropped close to his head. With one eyebrow raised, he looked at me without a trace of reaction to my outburst.

I bit the inside on my lip, sighing as I scrubbed my hand down my face. aIam sorry, I justa Well, you startled me, and I really didnat meana"a He lifted his hand as if waving away my apology. aaTis nothing to be sorry for, Iam sure. And you, with h.e.l.l scared right from ye, are sure to be welcome in His house.a It took me a few seconds to process what head said, and in that time, Grant had stuck out his hand, shaking Father McKinnonas. aGood to see you again, Father. If I may? My son, Aiden,a he said, stepping back to put his hand on my shoulder in introduction.

Father McKinnon dipped his head at me with a warm smile. aI was just on my way out. Is there anything you might be needing?a Grant moved his hand from my shoulder. aNo, I believe weare all set for right now. Thank you, though.a I reached down and picked my bag up from the floor as Father McKinnon walked over to a coat rack by the door, pulled a black trench coat from its hook, and slid it on. Perched on the top of the rack was a black bowler hat that he plucked from its resting place and sat atop his head. With a final wave, he pulled the door open and grabbed an umbrella. Not minding the rain sweeping in on gusts of air, Father McKinnon didnat open the umbrella until he cleared the door. aAn old superst.i.tion, that,a he said cheerily and pulled the door closed behind him.

THERE HADN"T BEEN A WHOLE lot to put away since wead traveled light. Grant had set up shipments of small crates to be delivered over a span of a few weeks, which left us working off secured laptops and living out of our suitcases for a while.

It didnat bother me, living like that. So long as I had a bed to lie in at night, I really didnat care. Nadia arrived two days later with discouraging news. Robert de Fleur, the man responsible for kidnapping Jared, had gone underground again.

Intelligence lost him in Ireland, which made it too close for comfort for those of us in Scotland. And it changed all of our plans. Not knowing where the b.a.s.t.a.r.d was hiding made it impossible to track him, and word on the street was that he hadnat even told his closest contacts where head be. Nadia had wrung her hands at that.

There was always a finger on the pulse of movement when it came to tracking a person of interest at Cole Enterprise. After Jaredas abduction and the helicopter crash that Ace had been in, Nadia discovered there was a leak of intelligence. Not long after that, Robert de Fleur went into hiding. Coincidence? Maybe, but it was highly doubtful.

Without any leads to actively follow, I was left helping Nadia set up her office. There was only one thing wrong with that. I was not, and never would be, a paperwork person. After the third day of filing and sorting, labeling and alphabetizing, I was ready to go out of my mind. Thankfully, Grant had other plans for me.

Even if it didnat make any sense, his plan at least got me out of the church bas.e.m.e.nt and away from filing.

aNadia and I have to lay low, but you wonat have to since she was able to take down the server that was hacked before your information was leaked,a Grant said as he sat me down to explain what it was he wanted me to do. aYouall be able to move around without worry of being noticed by the wrong people, and maybe weall get lucky enough to get a lead on where the h.e.l.l Robert de Fleur might be hiding out.a I leaned over to look at the sheet of paper Grant slid across the cluttered desk. aThe Grounded Bean? Is that aa"?a aCoffee shop, yes,a Grant answered, stretching his arms out on the table with a sigh.

I scrunched my face up, wondering how in the h.e.l.l a coffee shop played into his plan. aAnd Iall be working there?a Grant pulled his arms back and let his hands fall into his lap as he leaned back in his chair. aIall have your work Visa ready for you by tonight. Tomorrow, youare going to The Grounded Bean to fill out an application.a I eyed Grant. Curiosity getting the best of me, I asked, aWhatas the connection, because I have a hard time believing that youad just put me in a coffee shop for something to do.a aThe connection is Brenda, owner of The Grounded Bean. Intel shows the connection, but thatas all we have,a Grant said, pulling a file from the stack on his desk. aBrenda Anderson is the estranged sister of Robert de Fleur. From what we have on Robertas movements, he hasnat seen his sister in over fifteen years, buta"a aWith him in hiding, itas a possibility head seek her out,a I said, finishing Grantas sentence as he opened the file and took out the one page intel sheet on Brenda.

aExactly. Which is why youare going to seek employment at The Grounded Bean. Intelligence non-withstanding, itas my hope that infiltrating his family connections might dig up something we can actually run with.a aWhatas my cover story?a I asked, scanning the paper in front of me.

Other than the usual information, there wasnat much else to go off, especially in connection to a known terrorist. A grainy black-and-white photo of Brenda stared back at me as I committed her face to memory.

aYouare a recent high school graduate traveling abroad. Youave blown through all of your money and need a job, but plan to stick around Glasgow because youave decided you want to put away some money to go to school there.a My eyes left the paper in front of me to meet Grantas. aSchool? I donat really have to go, do I?a Grant laughed at the confusion clearly written all over my face. aNo, but this will buy us some time. The longer youare there, the more of a chance you might have at uncovering something of use to find Robert de Fleur.a aWhat if thereas no connection? I mean, other than Brenda just being related to a douche bag?a Grant picked the folder up and stood, rounding the desk. aThen weall find another starting point.a I took the folder from him, slid the intel sheet back inside, and pushed out of my chair. aI guess itas better than nothing, right?a aTrue. Iam basing this off gut instinct. Thereas just something right here,a he said, poking his finger into his stomach, athat tells me this is the right angle to start working from.a I nodded, understanding exactly what he meant. Gut instinct and sheer luck could crack a case wide open. aIs there any other known family in the area?a I wasnat sure why I asked it, but the question popped out before I had time to think about it.

aBesides the handful of cousins, whoave all checked out, thereas Brendaas niece. She didnat pop up on intelas list back when wead created the files because she was so young. That would have been about fifteen years ago, or around there. Shead be about eighteen by now.a Grant tapped his lip in thought. aIall get with intel and have them run a full report again.a aWhat makes you so sure sheall hire me?a I asked, following Grant out into the hallway. The dim lighting did nothing to chase away the shadows that clung to the walls, giving the hallway a hushed sort of feel. Almost like you should whisper, so as to not disturb the air around you. Goose b.u.mps broke out over my arms, racing up my neck to make my scalp p.r.i.c.kle. I might have been walking around in the belly of a church, but the eeriness that came from it wasnat something I could shake.

Grant, unaware of my discomfort, slapped his hand against my shoulder and squeezed. aTrust me, she needs the help. Right now, itas only her and another girl working the front. Sheall not only hire you, but sheall probably put you right to work. Just remember your cover story and do everything you and your southern charm can to get in good with her.a aWhat if she asks me what school I want to attend?a I hadnat had a chance to scope out the city, let alone the schools.

aTake your pick. Thereas the University of Glasgow and several other schools for arts. While Iam getting your work Visa ready, you can look up the area and acquaint yourself with the different schools in the area. Pick one and research it so that you know what youare talking about when she puts the questions to you, because she will.a BRENDA HAD HIRED ME ON the spot and put me right to work, just as Grant had said she would two weeks ago. Since then, Iad worked almost every single day because Kirsten, her other employee, had a baby with health issues. Brenda, being the softhearted woman she was, never got angry with Kirsten about the days she was left shorthanded. Instead, she jumped in to fill her place and gave me more hours.

The coffee shop didnat do a ton of business, but there were times when it did get more than one patron at a time. But still, I wondered how she kept it going with the lack of revenue coming in, until she asked me to help her with the post.

What Brenda lacked in patrons to the coffee shop, she made up for in online orders of tea. Enough to keep her comfortably afloat and the doors open for one more day, shead told me one day as we made our way to the post office.

I had to hand it to her; she was at least doing everything she could to keep The Grounded Bean open. But she was running herself into the ground in the process. Dark circles stood out prominently under her tired eyes as she tried to juggle everything on her own.

More often than not, I was struck with a guilty conscious. Brenda might be related to Robert de Fleur, but for everything he was, she definitely wasnat.

The bell over the door jingled, cutting off my thoughts. I opened my mouth to welcome whomever it was that stepped through the door, but found my voice failing me as a pair of moss-green eyes locked with mine. Holy s.h.i.t.

I cleared my throat, getting my reaction under control as Brenda swept in from the back, pulling the girl into a hug. Exclaiming over her arrival, Brenda led her past the counter and into her office.

My gut clenched. Brendaas niece had arrived.

I"D FAILED. THERE WAS NO other way to look at it. What was supposed to be the launch of my independence had crashed and burned around me, leaving me with no choice but to tuck my tail and return home.

It had been going so well too. Iad taken my meager savings and set out to see the world. I was a modern-day gypsy moving from place to place without a care in the world as to where my journey took me, only that I was moving when the urge struck. Iad work here and there to help replenish what Iad spent, and just keep moving.

I made it longer than most. Carefully spending only what was necessary, and saving everything else, was how I kept my journey going.

Leaving Scotland behind was one of the easiest decisions I ever made. It wasnat because I didnat like Scotland; I just wanted to see more. Do more. Be more.

Scotland would forever be my safety net, welcoming me back after a long journey and taking me in as if Iad never left her. Deep down, I knew Iad eventually return home. I just never thought it would be so soon.

I slid the last of my money across the ticketing counter with a long, drawn-out sigh. Bitterness rolled through me as I thought about the tidy stash of money Iad kept so closely guarded. Betrayed by a person Iad considered a friend. I should have known better. Instead, I was left to suffer the fool.

Iad let her in. Iad chosen to travel with her. Safety in numbers, it was said. We split the cost of a lot of things, making it somewhat more affordable for both of us. Shead never once led me to believe I had anything to worry about. Iad thought I could trust her. I had been so very, very wrong.

Shead called herself Liv, short for Olivia. A Russian immigrant backpacking her way through the United Kingdom. Iad met her in Dublin outside a small pub where shead been shoved out the front door as she begged for work. Iad felt bad for her.

Together, we traveled to Northern Ireland where I found work at a small bookshop just around the corner from our apartment and struck up a deal with the owner. Iad help get the place cleaned up and sorted, and at the end of the week, Iad get paid.

I worked my a.s.s off for four days. There wasnat a speck of dirt in sight. Iad made sure of it. The owner, a rounded, spectacled man bent with arthritis, had been so impressed with the way his shop looked that head paid me early and told me not to worry about coming in that Friday.

Iad given myself a silent pat on the back and headed back to the apartment with my money, desperate for a shower. Lotion for my reddened hands wouldnat come amiss either. Theyad taken a beating over the last four days. But Iad come back to an empty apartment, finding a note from Liv on the worn, Formica tabletop.

aGone to the market,a it read. My stomach rumbled, reminding me I hadnat had time for breakfast since the battery had died in the alarm clock sometime in the middle of the night. With any luck, Liv would be back by the time I cleaned up. Gathering a stack of clean clothes, I headed to the communal bathroom. Hours later, with no sign of Liv, I set out to look for her, checking all the local markets.

Theread been no sign of her, which led to a sinking feeling in my gut. I raced back to the apartment and went straight to my backpack, finding my wallet empty. My heart was broken.

My chest tightened just thinking about it. Anger bubbled under the layers of hurt and resentment. Friends didnat steal from friends. And Liv, while acting like a friend, had deceived me, making me bitter against the thought of ever having another friend again.

Thinking back on it, I wondered how long I played the sucker. It didnat matter. Not anymore. Not when what was done, was done, and I was going home. I was just lucky I had money in my pocket when shead stolen my savings and took off.

What was the point? When those who claimed to like you could turn on you so easily?

aWill that be all?a the agent asked, sliding my ticket across the counter.

aYes. Thank you.a The smile I tried for slipped away before I turned and headed for the train platform. My worn pack slung over my shoulder was my only companion.

SLIDING MY BAG UNDER THE seat in front of me, I leaned my head against the gla.s.s, settling in for the ride. I hadnat been completely honest with Aunt Brenda when I left Scotland. Yes, I wanted my freedom. And yes, I wanted to travel. But there was another reason. A reason Iad left and kept moving. Uncle Robert. The familyas black sheep had come to see me about a week before Iad left home. Iad never met the man in my entire life, and back then, I had a feeling the family didnat just write him off because he wasnat trustworthy.

There had been something about him that put me off when head showed up out of the blue last June. The family never really spoke of him, and if they did, it was in hushed whispers. When Iad asked about him, I was always told, aNever you mind about him, my dear.a As an inquisitive teenager, I never let it go, and instead, I looked him up. There was a reason the family never spoke about him. He was evil. If ever there was a special place in h.e.l.l for those that preyed on the innocent, Uncle Robert would surely end up there. I shivered, pulling my jacket closer to chase off the chill my thoughts had created.

He hadnat stayed long to talk to me, only introduced himself and told me head be aseeinga me. As to what he wanted to be seeing me for, I had no clue. Knowing his a.s.sociation with drug cartels and his brush with human trafficking, I kept my mouth shut and didnat say a word to my mother or to Aunt Brenda. They didnat need any unnecessary worry over a sibling who theyad written off long ago. And I didnat want his presence to be the reason they guilted me into staying.

Leaving Scotland seemed the best idea. If I disappeared, then he couldnat find me, and that would solve the problem of him seeing me again. But I was going back, leaving me to wonder if I should at least say something to Aunt Brenda. It also made me wonder if head shown up on their doorsteps. Surely not. At least, I hoped not anyway.

I closed my eyes, jerking my thoughts away from Robert Anderson and his lawless ways. Besides, it was probably a fluke thing and head already forgotten about me. Worrying over things I had no control over changing was a waste of time. It only gave me more toa well, worry over. And I had enough to worry abouta"like getting a job and a bank account to keep my money safe.

Aunt Brenda had offered my old room to me, and Iad accepted since living with my mother in a one-room apartment held no appeal at all. Besides, Mum was dating a man I didnat really care for. She liked John, enough to move him in and start her life again ten years after the pa.s.sing of my father. I couldnat begrudge her happiness, but no one could ever replace my father.

Aaron Campbell had been one h.e.l.l of a man, taken too early from my life because of his defective heart. Iad only been nine at the time, and I never really fully recovered from losing him.

Mum had done her best to get both of us through it, and kept life going on for both of us, but I could tell she was lonely.

Showing back up on her doorstep looking for a place to stay would upset her life. It would also probably traumatize mine, seeing her budding relationship with John.

As the train chugged along the countryside, my stomach clenched and twisted, reminding me that it was well past time to feed it. I pulled my legs up and curled into myself, hoping the other pa.s.sengers couldnat hear its distressed noise and mistake it for the mating call of a Humpback Whale. I just had to hold out for a few more hours and Aunt Brenda would feed me until I burst, and then Iad shuffle off to the nearest bed, pa.s.sing out into a food coma.

There was something to be said about going home. Iad never understood the whole ayou can never go home againa. It made absolutely no sense whatsoever to me. Of course you could go home again. It was the place where your family welcomed you back with open arms, hugged you, fed you, and clucked over the adventures you had. Or at least, mine did. It was a shame not everyone had that.

I leaned back, settling in my seat, and could almost hear Aunt Brendaas welcomea aOH, MY POOR DEAR!a AUNT Brenda cried out as she whisked me into a quick, bone-crushing hug. aCome along,a she continued. aWeall get you fed right away. Youare looking right peely-wally. Dia ya no eat a thing while you were awaa? Never you mind that, weall get you fixed right up. Oh, Iam so glad youave come home, Airen. Itas not been the same without you here with meaa Aunt Brenda put her arm through mine. My last glimpse of the man standing behind the counter was cut short as she whisked me away, carrying on about my return home.

Pulling me into her office, she led me over to the small couch tucked against the wall. Hugging the wall beside it was a tall, metal cabinet that held a mishmash a.s.sortment of everything from packing supplies to a pestle and mortar from the mid- 1800s.

My eclectic aunt was a collector of mismatched things that time had forgotten. Kind of like the bra.s.s monkey lamp on her desk and the vintage, bone china teacup she religiously drank from on her desk. The yellow friendship daffodils looked bright and cheerful, even if the gold accents had all but worn away.

Weary from my travels, I sat down as she continued on while my head spun from her words. I couldnat get a word in edgewise with her running dialogue. But I knew shead wind herself down eventually, I just had to wait until she got it all out.

Aunt Brenda sat beside me, perched on the edge of the couch, and patted my knee. aaand I was just saying yesterday to Mina how it was time you came home.a I groaned, stopping Aunt Brendaas next words before they left her mouth. aYou told Mum I was coming home?a She pulled a deep breath in with what could only be called a aharumpha. aWell, of course I did. And why shouldnat I then? Weave been so worrit about ye and no more than a word or two every so many weeks. Why, weave been sayina for a while now, wouldnat it be nice when Airen finally comes home? Of course, you should have been the one to call, but whatas done is done, I say. And now she knows.a Head in hands, I leaned forward with a sigh that started at my toes as it worked its way out. It wasnat that Aunt Brenda told Mum I was coming home. No, it was the guilt Mum would lay on me that I hadnat told her first. Iad always gone to Aunt Brenda for everything, and it wasnat until that moment I realized it. Mum would be upset. I had to fix it. I groaned, pushing myself up from the couch and stumbling forward, swaying from exhaustion.

aAnd where do you think youare going? Sit before ye fall,a Aunt Brenda said, grabbing hold of my arm to steady me.

I willed my legs to hold me up for a few more hours. aI have to go see Mum. If she knows Iam home and I donat go to see her, sheall be upset.a aSit ye down. Yer not going anywhere until you rest a bit. And a little food would do ye well, too,a she scoffed, eying me as if she dared me to refuse.

My backside hit the couch with a bounce. aAs ye say, Auntie.a Her face bloomed into a smile that lit up the room like a candle in the window, glowing brightly to show the way home.

My throat tightened and tears welled in my eyes at the thought. I was way more tired than I realized, thinking poetic sentiments such as that. And worse than that, they made me an emotional mess.

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