Avery

The bruises on my heart still ached as if I’d last seen Hayden yesterday. I’d expected Sacramento to revive me, to make me forget the weeks that had come before. But a month at home had passed too quickly and I was dreading leaving for Miami later that day.

“Come over here and have breakfast with me and your brother before you go,” my dad said.

I glanced over at them both. “Sure. Has the mail come yet?”

My dad cocked his head to the counter top where a stack of mail lay unopened.

“Dad!”

Since I’d gotten back from France, I’d spent all of my free time on the internet, finding charities that supported people in our situation and talking to them about what had happened, writing to apply for grants from foundations and trusts, investigating what I could do to appeal the health insurance company’s decision regarding my brother’s care. I’d been busy and it had started to pay off. Some donations were just a few hundred dollars, but yesterday we’d received a check for five thousand from a sports injury charity. It wasn’t going to go far, but it had given me hope and more than anything, that was what I needed.

My father had seemed content to accept what had happened, as if he knew the odds had never been in our family’s favor, knew that the house always won. He’d shrugged and done the best he could with what he had.

That was his coping mechanism.

Michael and I hadn’t talked about it at all.

The way I dealt with it was to try to fix it. It was who I was—I fixed things for people and the five thousand dollar check yesterday was evidence I could fix this too.

I grabbed the mail from the counter and dropped into a seat at the table, sorting through the envelopes. Most of them were junk.

“You want juice, honey?” my dad asked as he held the jug over my glass.

“Sure, thanks,” I said, sawing my finger across the sealed top of a brown envelope. “You’re going to have to check these when I’m gone. You know that, right? You can’t leave it for me to come home to in five months. Some of them you need to respond to right away. Those you should just scan to me and I’ll deal with them.” I unfolded the letter. I didn’t need to read the line and a half of writing—anything that didn’t require at least two paragraphs was a no.

“I can email you on this boat you’re going on, right?”

“Yes, and call me. I’ll have my phone with me. It will be much better than last time.” I wasn’t sure it was the relief at being able to contact my father that made my shoulders sag or if it was the thought that if I had my cell my guest wasn’t Hayden Wolf.

I’d tried not to think about him, but he was still there, haunting me at the edges of my smile as I settled back into Sacramento, and in that time just before I fell asleep when I couldn’t press down the memories of him anymore. I hoped that if I could block him out for long enough, eventually I wouldn’t have to try, and he’d dissolve into a pot of bad decisions and might-have-beens.

My rage had faded, at least.

I couldn’t be angry at him for his accusations. They’d hurt. They still hurt but I understood it. And I deserved it. For a second I’d been tempted. And it hadn’t been how I felt about Hayden Wolf that had stopped me. I just couldn’t do that to my father or brother. Neither one of them would have forgiven me if they’d thought any money they’d received had been from a source like Cannon. It was hard enough for my dad to accept the checks that had been coming from charities and foundations since I’d started applying. He was a man of honor and principle and I wouldn’t sully his legacy by taking money for stolen secrets. I wanted to be worthy of calling him my father.

My feelings for Hayden remained almost overwhelming whenever my heart and mind grew weak and let memories of him escape. There was no sign of them diminishing, but I kept telling myself it would happen. Surely, thoughts of him would fade and weaken and I wouldn’t have to try so hard to keep them at bay.

“That’s weird. This one’s to Michael,” I said, pulling out a thick cream envelope from the pile. Most of the letters and applications I’d made had been in my father’s name as next of kin. One or two had been in mine, but I hadn’t made any in my brother’s name.

“Can I open it, Michael?” I asked.

He shrugged, focused on his food rather than his mail, and I grinned and blew him a kiss. I flipped the envelope over and worked my thumb under the flap.

No check, but it was two pages long. I flipped to the second page to see an application with boxes and dotted lines sprinkled down the page. They were asking for bank account details and addresses. That was weird.

I turned back to the first page, glancing to the headed notepaper. Lycan Foundation. I couldn’t remember writing to them, but I must have sent off four hundred applications, so it was perfectly possible that I had just forgotten.

I read it once all the way through and then paused. I must have read it incorrectly. They were offering to pay Michael’s physical therapy, for a full-time caregiver and for any health insurance premiums.

That couldn’t be right. My pulse began to throb in my ears and I started again from the top.

“I want you to eat something,” my dad said. His voice sounded tinny and far away.

“Hang on, Dad,” I said, pressing the letter flat against the table and tracing the lines of typed text with my finger. I needed to read more carefully. I had to subdue the fluttering in my gut that was squealing that this letter was a winning lottery ticket.

I’d been wrong. It wasn’t what I thought. It wasn’t just Michael’s physical therapy, a full-time caregiver and insurance premiums they wanted to pay. It was “all and any costs associated with Michael’s medical or occupational needs for the rest of Michael’s life.”

Surely I had this wrong? This would mean that if Michael needed other things as he got older or as my father got older, this charity was going to cover it. I flipped over the page. This couldn’t be happening.

I stood, vaguely aware of my chair falling back behind me.

“Avery, sit and eat something. Please,” my dad said.

“Hang on a minute. I just need to check something.” When had I contacted these people?

I grabbed the laptop, brought up my spreadsheet of applications I’d made, but I couldn’t find anything.

I typed it into Google. Nothing came up.

Was this a scam? Would anyone be so cruel?

“Daddy, did you apply to any charities? Or did anyone we know do that?” For a flash I wondered if my mother had had something to do with it but of course she wouldn’t have. We didn’t exist to her anymore.

“No, Avery, you know how I feel about that. It’s hard enough seeing you do it but I tell myself it’s for Michael. But I don’t like to . . .”

I turned back to the computer and searched Google again. “You ever heard of the Lycan Foundation?”

My dad chuckled, and my heart thudded against my ribcage. Was this a joke? “Lycan? Is this Dungeons and Dragons or something?”

“What are you talking about?” I held up the letter. “This charity is saying they’ll pay Michael’s medical bills. All of them. Forever. But I don’t remember applying to a Lycan Foundation.”

My dad froze. “All of his medical bills?”

“Yes! Do you know who they are?”

He shrugged, his brows drawn together as he strode over, took the paper from my hands and read the letter himself. “Lycan is . . . I don’t know. It was the name for a werewolf, I thought, but I guess it’s just a surname.”

Werewolf? Memories of Hayden burst through my mental barriers. It couldn’t be him, right? He had no idea where we lived or that I’d applied for anything. I’d never told him that Michael’s medical insurance had been changed and that his physical therapy had been cut. And he hated me. He thought I was a liar and a thief. Of course it wasn’t him. I shook my head.

“Call them.” My dad handed me back the letter. “There’s a number on the letterhead.”

I scrambled to pick up the phone. I had to confirm what they were offering was real. I punched in the numbers, chewing on the inside of my mouth.

“Lycan Foundation, Alyson speaking.”

I took a deep breath and explained why I was calling.

“Yes, that’s right,” Alyson said as I relayed the contents of the letter. “You just need to fill in all the details. It might take thirty days for us to organize all the payments, but we’ll back pay from the date of the letter.”

I pressed my lips together, trying to take in what she was saying. I swallowed. “And this has no end date?”

“That’s right. It’s for the rest of Michael’s life.”

It was as if she’d unlocked a brace from around my chest and suddenly there was more room to breathe.

“Thank you,” I said. “I just don’t remember ever making the application, so it’s a lot to take in.”

“I understand,” she replied. “Other charities and third parties refer cases to us from time to time. That must be it.”

I nodded. “I guess. I don’t know what to say. Thank you so much.”

“You’re welcome. Just let us have the forms and we’ll make all the necessary arrangements.”

I put the phone back down. My father’s eyes were wide. “It wasn’t a hoax?”

“I don’t think so,” I replied. “I guess we fill out the forms.”

“That means you don’t have to go to Miami,” he said.

I’d never told my dad the only reason I did the yachting season was to take care of Michael, just like he never told me he didn’t want to retire because it meant the cost of health insurance premiums would skyrocket.

This donation gave us both hope for a different kind of future.

I stood and pulled him into a hug. “I still have to go to Miami. I’ve made a commitment and anyway, I’d like to see this Lycan thing actually happen before I think about making any big changes.” My whole life had been about working to care for my brother. If Michael was really going to be looked after, where did that leave me? My entire focus had been on making enough money to look after my family.

If I didn’t have that focus, I wasn’t sure I knew who I was. I’d never allowed myself to think about what I was missing or how life might have been. I wasn’t sure if I knew how to do that.

“If this is really happening, Avery, then promise me you won’t stay doing a job you don’t like. Promise me you’ll do what you want to do, wherever in the world, whatever that is.”

I had no idea what I wanted. Hayden had been the only thing in my life I’d had just for me in seven years and to him I was nothing, just some woman who’d betrayed him.

My heart swelled at my father’s desire to have me happy and at the thought of finally being able to do something for me. Although I was excited, I wouldn’t let myself believe something so wonderful could be happening. I’d been there before. I’d thought Hayden and I would carve out a future together. Believing things could be different had caused me misery and disappointment. This time I’d hold myself back, protect my heart until I’d seen the change it promised.