Ever since I got myself shot, my brother had been acting weird. Weirder than usual. Secretive. He went out at night, had hushed conversations on the phone, and changed the subject every time I brought it up.

A few days after the Jay incident—which I wasn’t thinking about, no matter how confident his kiss had been—Fraze had gone out and still wasn’t home when I got back from the gym. I waited up but finally called it a night at one in the morning. Tossing and turning, I woke at the click of the door. Footsteps crept down the hall and into the bathroom. I got out of bed.

“Fraze?” I said into the bathroom door.

“Yeah,” he said from the other side. “You okay?”

“I’m fine. I was about to ask you the same thing.”

“It’s all good. Late night, is all. Go to bed, Mags.”

I hesitated. “Okay. See you in the morning.”

It took a while for me to fall back asleep. What could Frasier be doing out there all by himself? Maybe he had friends I didn’t know, or he’d met new ones since coming here. Fraze made new friends as easily as picking produce at the grocery store. Still, I worried. Couldn’t help myself.

In the morning, I woke to the smell of frying bacon. Rubbing my eyes, I shuffled into the kitchen. Frasier was at the stove, three pans in front of him.

“What are you doing?” I leaned over his shoulder to check out the bacon, scrambled eggs, and fat sausages. “Trying to give me a heart attack?”

He showed the barest of smiles, but didn’t say anything.

I checked the time on the stove. Eight in the morning and I had to be at the diner in an hour. “I gotta jump in the shower,” I said. “Save me some?”

When I got out, my brother had set the table with two heaping plates, two glasses of orange juice, and two forks. After twisting my hair into a wet bun, I took a seat at the small kitchen table.

“What is this?” I said, suspicious. Frasier never cooked when he was at home.

His eyes met mine. “Consider it a goodbye breakfast.”

“No.” It was too soon.

Frasier dug into his eggs, shoveling them into his mouth like it was his Last Supper. I ate a few bites, had one piece of bacon, then pushed my plate away.

“Where to this time?” My voice wavered, my nonchalance falling flat.

“A friend of mine has a job lined up. We’ve been working out the details these last few days.”

I raised an eyebrow.

“Working in a recording studio,” he said. “Sounds like a pretty sweet deal, I couldn’t pass it up.”

“Doing what?”

He shoved a sausage into his mouth before answering. The only words I understood were ‘music’ and ‘boss.’

I scraped the rest of my food onto his plate, then took my dishes to the dishwasher. “Sounds…” I didn’t know what it sounded like. “Where?”

Fraze didn’t answer. My hands braced against the counter, I watched him eat, clearing his plate in five minutes.

He grinned at me around his last bite and I laughed. “Pig,” I said. I checked the time. After eight thirty. “I’ve gotta go. When are you leaving? Can you stop by the diner first?”

He went to his duffel bag, which was already packed. The pile of clothes that had graced the floor by the couch was gone. He bent down, grabbed an envelope, and then came to me.

“I’ve got a present for you.”

“What is it?”

He grabbed my hand and put the envelope on my palm. His eyes were wide like they used to get on Christmas morning when we were kids, before he stopped getting along with our dad. Back when he still believed in something.

I opened the envelope. Inside was a stack of bills. Hundred dollar bills. I gasped.

“You can cancel that bank appointment. Thirteen thousand plus a little extra thrown in for you.”

He looked so pleased with himself but my heart was pumping faster than when I auditioned for EDT. I was more scared than I’d been outside the gym with Jay and the guys who wanted to kill him.

“How much?”

“Fourteen.”

A thousand bucks could cover a year’s worth of drop-in classes at Fluidity. “Where did you get this?”

He shrugged, like fourteen grand was no big deal. “It’s an advance for my new job.”

“Seriously?” I put the envelope down.

He waggled his eyebrows. “Don’t you trust me?”

“This isn’t a game, Fraze.”

“I know, Mags.” His gaze went to my arm, the scar currently covered by my gold work shirt. “I was supposed to settle in with this money. Get an apartment, a car, that sort of thing. But you know me, I can crash on couches and bum rides until things take off. I told you this job’s a big deal.”

I shook my head. This was exactly what I’d worried about. I knew he would try to help me.

“Just take it, Maggie.”

I met his eyes. “I’m scared.”

He pulled me into a hug. “Hey. There’s nothing to be scared of.” He let go. “It’s completely legit. Okay? I’ve already talked to Bron and she’s going to make sure Nico pays me back. If I could, I’d give the money straight to this Ting guy so you wouldn’t have to see him again. But I can’t stay.”

I nodded, a lump still in my throat.

“Besides, how can you be scared of this? You stepped in front of a bullet.”

It hadn’t gone down quite like that but I didn’t say anything. My brother shoved me toward the door. “Get to work. I’ll stick around so we can have one last lunch together and then I’m outta here.”

I swallowed. “Promise?”

He grinned. “I’m the king of keeping promises.”

I didn’t buy that lie any more than his others.

I had to beg Craig for one last lunch break with Frasier. His patience with me was wearing thin, but he allowed it, as long as I changed out of my uniform first. I took off my apron, pulled my hoodie from my dance bag and slipped it over my ugly gold shirt. Good enough.

We sat by the window and people-watched while Fraze downed the Fishers of Men platter and I picked at a Garden of Eden salad. My brother was leaving. I’d had him for a short couple of weeks and then in a few minutes he would be gone again, probably for years. As much as I wanted to, I couldn’t ask him to stay. He wouldn’t anyway. Not for me, not for anyone. It was like he had wings on his shoes, always flying away, never staying put. Or as Fraze liked to say, he had a rocket under his butt that never burned out.

“Don’t stop the emails.” Frasier licked the grease off his fingers. “Even if I don’t reply. It means my phone is dead or I don’t have access to wi-fi.”

“No excuses,” I said, pointing at him with my fork. “Or I’ll come down there myself.” I frowned. “Where are you going again?”

Fraze scooted from the booth. “I’m gonna check out some sights along the way, but I better go before I miss my bus.”

I didn’t fail to notice that he wouldn’t tell me where this so-called job was. But I didn’t push it. Fraze would be a lot more forthcoming in an email.

He was already at the door, his duffel bag slung over one shoulder. I looked at our empty dishes on the table and sighed. Another meal coming out of my paycheck. I wouldn’t complain though. Because of Fraze, fourteen grand was hidden in my pillowcase.

We stepped into the sunlight. The street outside the diner was busy with people on their lunch break.

My brother pulled me into a tight hug. We were the same height, and I rested my chin on his shoulder. He smelled like grease and shave gel, not familiar but not strange either.

“I’m glad you came,” I said.

He pulled away. “Be good.” He tugged on my ponytail. I batted his hand away.

“When am I not?”

He hugged me again, lingering. We both knew it would be a long time until we saw each other again. When he let go, his parting smile was bright and confident. “I’ll see you.” He shouldered his bag and headed down the street, turning once and waving goodbye before disappearing around a corner.

When he was gone, I turned back to the diner. Jay Thornton was standing on the sidewalk, his feet wide apart, his arms crossed, staring at me. A scowl darkened his face. He was angry. Even though I’d seen him fight, he looked truly dangerous right then. Dangerous to me.

I hurried inside the diner, my heart beating faster than my footsteps.