“Are you ready to talk about it?”

I glanced over my shoulder and found Chelsey sitting at the small round table tucked beneath the window in my kitchen. Midmorning light poured inside, and shimmery silver rivers splashed across the table and tumbled onto the floor.

My older sister stared at me, fiddling with the string of her hot tea bag.

Worry.

It was blatant.

I wondered if it was backward that I was in a constant state of worry over Avril, and Chelsey seemed to be in the same constant state for me.

Or maybe it was perfectly normal.

A typical hierarchy.

I turned back to the dishes I was loading into the dishwasher. “What do you want to talk about?”

“Come on, Alexis. You know exactly what I’m talking about. More than three weeks have passed, and you haven’t said a single thing to me about that night since I dropped you off here after we left the station.”

Our mother had worked two different jobs to support us when we were growing up. Mom had relied so much on Chelsey to be there for me and Avril, and the four of us had become a team that had to work.

Somewhere inside, I knew Chelsey felt just as responsible for Avril straying from our tight-knit flock as I did. She just chose to handle it in an entirely different way.

A sigh filtered free. “I’m not sure there’s anything more to say.”

Her cup clanked behind me, adding to the weighted tension climbing into the stagnant air. “Has she called you since then?”

I hesitated.

“Damn it, Alexis. Tell me you haven’t gone back down there. God…did you give her more money?”

Setting the rag aside, I slowly turned and leaned back on the counter.

I loved my sister. I did. She wanted the best for me. But it seemed what she’d forgotten was we wanted the best for Avril, too.

A shot of defensiveness rose in my chest. “I did give her some money, but I didn’t go all the way back down there.”

Thoughts of Zee sprang into my mind. The heat of his stare as he’d leaned against that wall. A shiver shook through my body.

Shaking her head, Chelsey’s gaze dropped to her tea. “She’s not only putting you in physical danger, Alexis, but also she’s robbing you. Robbing you of your security, of the things you might want to have or do. You work hard at a job I know you really don’t even like, and then you turn around and give it to her. That is so messed up.”

“I like my job.” Why did my argument sound so weak?

“You tolerate your job,” she disagreed, finally lifting her eyes back to me as she tilted her head to the side. “You think I don’t know you’d rather be doing a million other things than working in an attorney’s office?”

“I don’t know how my job has anything to do with this.”

“It has everything to do with it. It’s just another example of you always doing what benefits everyone else instead of yourself. You make great money, but you do it so you can support your deadbeat sister. Before Mom moved to Iowa, you gave up most of your weekends to visit her, and you don’t go out because you volunteer your time.”

I started to defend myself, but she held up a hand. “Before you say something, I’m well aware there’s nothing wrong with wanting to help other people whenever you can. But when was the last time you did anything solely for yourself?”

My gaze dropped to my fuzzy white socks. Maybe it would hide what I knew was ripping through my expression.

The redness and heat and vestiges of the man who’d steadily staked claim after claim.

Stealing my thoughts and my dreams and my breath.

I should have known she’d catch it.

“Oh…” It slid from her like an aha, curiosity blazing free. I wasn’t even looking at her, but I totally knew she had that smile on her face. The smug one that said she’d caught me red-handed.

“Alexis.” She said my name like a prod.

Warily, I peeked over at her.

She was grinning and circling her finger in my direction like proof. “Tell me what that’s all about.”

I cleared my throat, but the words still cracked. “I…I am doing something for myself.”

Her brows rose, a nudge for me to continue.

“I’m…learning how to play piano.”

“You are?” Her smile widened. “Why didn’t you tell me? That’s amazing.”

“It’s new.”

“Where are you taking lessons?”

This was the part I wasn’t sure I wanted her to know.

Chair legs skidded against the tile. Chelsey stood, taking the three steps it took for her to cross the kitchen. She jutted her hip into the counter two feet away from me. “Why do I get the feeling there’s more to this story than you’re letting on?”

I chewed at the inside of my cheek, wondering how much to give her. Because she was going to want answers, and I had no idea what any of this even meant.

She touched my shoulder. “Hey…I’m your sister. You can tell me anything. You know that, right?”

I turned to look at her. “I do know that.” My tone was cautious. “The guy who saved me…”

Her eyes flared with surprise. “The drummer?”

I nodded.

“You’re kidding me.” It was a dumbfounded breath.

I wrung my hands. “He came to check on me a couple of days after everything. And…we kind of became friends. He offered to teach me how to play.”

Skepticism seeped into her chuckle. “Your expression isn’t exactly saying friends.”

I clutched the counter with both hands, as if it might support me. “Because I’m not sure that’s what I want us to be.”

Concern climbed back to her face. “That’s a gorgeous man, Alexis. Believe me, I get the attraction. That morning outside the station was kind of…intense between the two of you. You obviously went through something together. But chasing a guy like that? It doesn’t seem your style. And the rock star drummer actually plays piano? I just…” Her words trailed off with her own questions.

I understood the paradox. The way that boy looked, so bad and bold on the outside, covered in ink and that mystery each day I wanted more and more to discover. But what she didn’t recognize was the vulnerability that glowed from the inside.

My head shook. “He’s different.”

Incomparable to anyone I’d ever met.

“You need to be careful, Alexis,” she murmured the quiet warning. “You always run headfirst into everything without thinking through the consequences.”

Softly, I scoffed. “You’re always telling me I need to get out and do something for myself, then the second I do, you start telling me to be careful. I’m twenty-five. I’m not a child anymore, Chelsey. You have to stop thinking you need to question and criticize everything I do.”

She touched my shoulder, the words winding with the lightest tease. “But you’ll always be my baby sister.”

My smile was slow. “I know. But you have to know sometimes taking the chance is worth any consequence.”

She eased forward and wrapped me in her arms. “I love you.”

I squeezed her tight. “I love you, too.”

She rocked me and laughed, something wistful in her tone. “How about we make a deal? You stop chasing the dangerous things and I’ll stop worrying about you.”

Soggy laughter rolled from me as I squeezed my eyes shut and buried my face in her neck. “I’m not sure I can make that deal.”

Because sometimes the best advice was the hardest to take.