I playfully push Chance toward the door, wearing the fakest of all smiles, hoping to convince him this will be okay. It will be okay. I silently remind myself.

“Are you sure?” he asks once more, unmoving as his eyes scan my face, looking for cracks in my facade.

I force my smile to hold, needing to convince him to walk out that door and leave me with Matthew and Brandon. I internally shiver with the thought. It's not kids per se, it's Brandon, he scares the shit out of me, but Chance and I are a team. When I told Michelle we'd fight her, I meant it as much as the promise I'd made to Chance just two nights ago on the patio. They didn’t deserve to be used as a pawn by his mother and certainly not by his aunt.

“You're going to miss your flight,” I answer, still smiling. “I got this. You told them I was staying. It'll be fine,” I add. His skeptical smile turns into a full-blown grin as he steps closer, pulling me into him.

“I love you.” His thumb brushes my cheek, his eyes boar into mine with a tenderness that defies his size. “You know that, right?” he asks and I nod before closing my eyes and breathing it in. I hadn’t heard those words since before my parents died, when he first said them last night, I was momentarily consumed with that connection. Simultaneously feeling as if I was floating while being tethered to someone for the first time in years.

“I love you too Chance. Now go catch that flight before Smith leaves you and becomes the new face of Chaos Clothing.” I push onto my toes, pressing my lips chastely to his before stepping back. He shakes his head and draws me to him again, his lips landing on mine, his fingers weaving through my hair. I sigh, melting into his chest when his tongue slides into my mouth and delicately twirls in a sensual, but possessive dance with mine. He pulls back, pecking soft kisses along the edges of my mouth before resting his forehead against mine.

“I programmed Smith and Vic's numbers in your phone. Smith will be with me, if you can't reach me, call him. If you need anything...” he steps back, bending at the knees to meet my eyes, “…if Brandon gives you any shit, call Vic.” I nod. “Any shit at all, Mia,” he adds and an ominous feeling has my stomach sinking.

“It'll be fine. I teach little girls ballet all day. That can be like herding cats. I think I can handle two little boys,” I say with as much bravado as possible. He kisses my nose and lazily steps back, releasing me in the process.

“I’ll call you later,” he promises before turning toward Smith’s truck. He climbs into the passenger seat and Smith slowly drives away before I close the door. I turn, taking in the large room, his absence washing over me immediately.

“Look, Brandon,” Matthew says, standing in front of a framed picture. Brandon walks across the room, joining his brother. I slowly walk toward them, watching as they both observe a series of framed pictures of mine. Some of the pictures I’ve taken, a few are of my family. I smile, remembering the day Chance insisted they go there, front and center of the room.

When I get across the room, I see Brandon studying one picture in particular. It’s Rex, my childhood dog and I in a pile of leaves, taken by Audrey one fall afternoon when were supposed to be raking them instead of playing in them. “That was my best friend,” I say, watching Brandon carefully for his reaction. His eyes land on mine. A small smile quirks at the corner of his mouth and I relax a bit. This may be my in. Chance said he wants a dog and their intention before Michelle took custody was to get one.

“Was it a boy or girl?” he asks, looking back at the picture.

“Rex was a boy,” I say, taking the picture off the shelf and handing it to him. “He could catch a ball as well as any baseball player,” I add.

“Did you have to teach him that?”

“Nope, he learned it all on his own. Just had to toss it a few times and he caught right on.” His big brown eyes look up at me. “Chance told me you like dogs.”

He shrugs, looking back to Rex. “I’ve never had one, but I’d like to get one. You know go to the place they call the pound and save one from that needle.”

I blink, trying not to show a reaction to his odd response. “The pound is the best place to get a dog. They have all kinds of dogs to choose from.” I smile, reassuringly. Despite his description, I like that he wants to save one.

“Did Rex come from the pound?” he asks.

I shake my head. “Rex just sort of showed up one day. I was riding my bicycle and he started following me. We knocked on doors all afternoon, trying to find his home, but it was like he just showed up out of nowhere. No one knew him or owned him.”

“What did you do?”

“We kept him. We gave him a bath, fed him and he slept on the corner of my bed every night after that. It was like he needed a home and I realized I needed a dog.”

Brandon smiles sadly, his eyes linger heartbreakingly on the picture as he hands it back to me. “Who is this? She looks like you?” Matthews asks, pointing to a picture of Audrey and I at the Statue of Liberty during our first visit to New York.

“That’s my sister, Audrey.” I glance back to Matthew, my heart still breaking for his heavy heart. He looks at the picture then back at me.

“You’re prettier,” he says and my heart melts.

“Thanks, I’ll be sure to tell her you said so.” I wink and he smiles with a little less apprehension this time.

“You have a lot of pictures,” Matthew says and my attention shifts from Brandon.

“That’s not even all of them. I like taking pictures. They help me to remember special times and special people. There are books and books of them in the cabinets.” I point to the lower cabinets, under the large TV.

“Can we see?” Brandon asks and I smile.

“Sure,” I say, more than willing to share my life, hoping it helps them to see I want to share in theirs too. I take out several old photo albums and settle on the couch. Each boy plops down on either side as I open the first page. “This is New York. I went to college here,” I say, turning page after page of pictures I’d taken of the big apple. Coming from St. Louis, city life wasn’t completely foreign to me, but there’s no place as great as New York.

“Who’s that?” Matthew points to a picture of Audrey in her softball uniform and my heart tugs inside my chest. She was ranked as Missouri’s number one pitcher, slated to go off to college on full-ride scholarship because of her skills, but an injury to her rotator cuff was all it took for her to become dependent on pain pills and eventually spiral out of control.

“You can’t really tell under her ball cap, but it’s my sister Audrey, again.”

“She played baseball?” Brandon asks, lifting the album up closer to get a better look.

“Girls softball. She was the best for a long time.”

“Does she still play?” Brandon asks, studying the picture with as much interest as the one with Rex.

“No, she hurt her shoulder and she’s too old now. She lives in Texas with our aunt.” I turn to look at Brandon. “Do you play baseball?”

“No, I don’t know how. Chance bought us all the stuff one year for Christmas, but some big kids in our old neighborhood came over to us one day and took it from us.” He looks up at me and my heart tugs once more, this time wanting to wrap my arms around him and make sure nothing like that ever happens to him again. He shrugs, “I wasn’t very good anyway,” he mumbles looking back to the album on my lap.

“Well, practice will make you better. Maybe we need to get some more of that gear so you can practice and I’m sure in no time, we’ll have you on a team and you’ll be—” My phone rings, interrupting me mid-sentence. I glance over to where my purse sits, next to my abandoned suitcase.

“I’m sorry, guys. I need to get that. It may be Chance.” Or Audrey. I lift from the couch, the boys sliding together. “Keep looking if you like,” I say sitting the album on their laps before racing toward my phone. As much as I’d love to talk to Chance and tell him how well it’s going, it better be Audrey. I called and left a message on my aunt’s machine last night after my run-in with Paul, telling her I needed to talk to her ASAP. I glance down at the caller ID. Audrey. Typical—returning my call fourteen hours later.

“Hey,” I answer.

“Mia, It’s Donna.” Not Aunt Donna, just Donna. This is her way, abrupt and to the point, no time for civilities or recognition of family bonds. I grew up knowing this was her way, but it was always a hard pill for my mother to swallow.

“Hey, Aunt Donna. How are you?” I reply, ignoring the workup of nerves that washes through me with hearing her voice. I’ve only spoken to her a few times over the last couple of years, and although she was willing to take Audrey in when I called, I sensed her reluctance in accepting. We haven’t spoken since.

“Things could be better, Mia.” Again, no pleasantries or courtesies exchanged. “Your sister left here the day before yesterday to go down to that community college to see about enrolling in a class or that was the line she fed me anyway. She hasn’t come back yet and by the looks of it, she isn’t going to.”

My breath catches and panic sets in. “Have you called the police?”

“Oh, you bet I did. I reported my truck stolen yesterday morning.” I feel the color drain from my face and glance back to the boy’s, thankful their little faces are still buried in the album on their laps.

I turn, walking toward the kitchen and out of earshot to the boys. “I doubt she stole your truck, Aunt Donna.” My reassurance sounds only half-hearted—even to my own ears.

“Well she did, but luckily for her, the Sherriff found it this morning in the woods near the bus station. After a little nosing around, turns out she bought a bus ticket and, if she stayed on route, should have arrived in St. Louis last night. Since she’s out of my hair, I’d considered dropping the charges for the truck, but with her out of the office, this morning I discovered she’s been taking money from the petty cash box.” I close my eyes, frustration briefly replacing the worry. How much more can she take from others.

“I’ll pay you back, if you tell me how much.”

“It’s not about the money Mia. I’m not rich but I ain’t hurting either. It’s the point. I’d given her full reign to my home, my business, despite knowing better and she played me.” I know the feeling.

“Will you please reconsider pressing charges? I’ll pay you back for what she took.”

“I don’t know Mia. That girl needs help. She doesn’t have one ounce of understanding when it comes to life. That may be the swift kick in the ass she needs to get clean and grow up. She—”

“Get clean…” I interrupt questionably and her heavy sigh comes through the line.

“I know you’re trying to help her, I didn’t even want to bother you with this, but you called last night so I know you didn’t have any idea about her disappearing act. I don’t know what kinda trouble she got into back there that had you sending her my way, but she’s not free of it. I thought she was, but a few days after she was here a package arrived. She said it was from you so I didn’t pry any further. Then another came last week and to be honest, Mia, her moods are all over the place.”

I sink into a chair, a swirl of emotions coming at me all at once. “Do you think it was drugs?” I already know the answer. I don’t even know why I’m asking. It all makes sense now. Her highs and lows on the phone, the reason Paul knew where she was.

Donna sighs heavily. “Mia honey, sometimes people can’t be saved from themselves.” For the first time, her tone softens as compassion laces her words. I swipe at a tear that falls down my cheek and look toward the boys. A sense of protectiveness washes over me. Audrey will not taint those boys. They’ve lived through too much—seen too much—in their short lives. I will not allow her to bring more poison into their world.

“You’re right. I’ve been fighting a losing battle. I was really hoping her getting away would help her to see things differently.”

“Mia, she’s not going to see them differently until she’s ready. You ever hear the term, ‘you can lead a horse to water, but you can’t make it drink’?”

“Yeah,” is all I manage around the lump forming in my throat. Since losing my parent’s, I’ve tried to lead her in every healthy direction possible, but it’s clear it’s time to cut the cord.

“Donna, will you please reconsider the charges? I know she doesn’t deserve it, but please…”

“Against my better judgment, I’ll drop them. I’m doing it for you, Mia. Not Audrey. I still stand by that she needs a swift kick in her ass to get herself clean, but if you think it’ll help you, I’ll do it because something tells me it’s always you trying to clean up her messes.”

“Thank you,” I say through a relieved sigh. Aunt Donna has a point on both accounts. Only this isn’t a mess I’m willing to take on. Despite what Smith said last night and again today when Chance ran upstairs for his bag, I’m not entirely convinced I’m clear of her last mess. But something about Audrey ending up with a criminal record doesn’t feel right.

“You’ll let me know how it all turns out?” she asks.

“Sure, I will. Thanks for everything.”

“This isn’t goodbye Mia. I know we’re not close, but I’ve always got a place here for you. Even if it’s just for a visit sometime, okay?”

“Okay,” I say numbly, before hearing the click of her disconnecting.

I take a deep breath, my eyes landing on Matthew. He’s hopping around on the floor, scratching his armpits, acting like a monkey and a small smile forms on my lips. They’ve been through so much, by no fault of their own and manage to find happiness. Why can’t Audrey? She’s been given no greater heartache than theirs, yet she causes so much to those who love and care for her.

Brandon jumps from the couch, mimicking his brother. His giggles lace over Matthew’s monkey grunts and I get up, pushing thoughts of Audrey aside, deciding to join in their monkey games.