CHLOE WAS SO SURPRISED, she allowed a gasp to escape. But Chet’s lips touched hers in the gentlest and most tender kiss. It felt like a soft, warm, refreshing breeze passing over the top of her skin. Her body fell towards him. His hands moved from gripping her shoulders to grasping her arms and holding her up. His mouth drifted over hers, brushing over both of her lips and sweeping back and forth, first on her upper lip and then on her lower. Her mouth stayed open to his. Her arms were locked at her sides. He had to loom over her to reach her mouth. Instead of pushing him away, and clinging to the last strands of sanity, she lifted her hands up towards his chest and grabbed his shirt. She scrunched the fabric up in her fists and pulled him closer. Why? Why would she do that? How could she? What was she doing? Her life had virtually tipped over and toppled during the last hour and there was no up or down anymore. No normal. No feeling okay.

She whimpered when the fresh assault of grief slammed through her. Stealing her breath despite her mouth’s fusion with Chet’s, a sense of dizziness affected her brain and she tried to comprehend what was happening to her body. How could this be? She lost track of where and why she was there. Her body felt boneless as she let him move closer, pushing her back a step until her lower back hit her desk. Her fists opened and slid up his chest in a slow creep. He seemed to take that as her invitation to come even closer. His hips tucked harder against her body, bumping into her stomach while his hands encircled her and dropped down to the back of her waist.

His mouth opened and his tongue slipped towards the seam of her mouth. He softly licked and stroked her tongue and her entire body reacted, making her knees go rubbery. His tongue moved forward aggressively as she opened her mouth wider to him. His tongue was bold and strong when he stroked her lips and tongue. Minutes passed as his hot tongue massaged hers. He pushed deeper and let her tongue tangle with his. He bent his legs, getting closer to her height, making it easier for her arms to encircle his neck. Gently lifting her, he set her bottom on the edge of her desk so his hips could move between her legs as he pressed tightly against her. She moaned in response. Her senses were out of control and she couldn’t find a coherent thought or description for her feelings. Her fingertips slipped into the warm heat of his scalp before feathering through the tips of his silky hair. His hands left her waist and flanked both sides of her butt while resting on the desk. His tongue filled her mouth again, probing deeper and growing hotter and more demanding. She tilted her head more to allow him better access. Her aching, swollen eyes were closed, and she was lost in an odd sense of bliss of… this. Whatever this was. His fingertips touched her jaw and trailed along her skin until his hand cupped the side of her face. His other hand repeated the movement on the other side and he gently held her face in his hands. He was cradling her. Chloe vacillated between feeling so hot and crazy that her head was spinning to enjoying an extraordinarily gentle sensation, as if she were a baby bird delicately nestled in his hands. That’s how light his touch was, despite his mouth, which was hot and demanding as he stroked, sucked, licked, and teased her.

Quite out of her control, tears slid from Chloe’s eyes, rolling down her cheeks and onto his hands. His thumbs curved upwards in response, brushing them away softly as he tilted her head up and released her mouth from his. His lips touched hers again for three long kisses before she was lost in his embrace. His mouth grazed hers as he moved to her cheek and then to the corner of one of her eyes. Keeping her eyes tightly shut, the hot, fresh tears filled her eyelids and overflowed in response to his tenderness. It was hot and erotic while very touching, and a genuine act of physical caring from both of them.

Chloe inhaled slowly and deeply. Her lungs were almost rattling and her insides alternated from being frozen to melting with radiant warmth. What was this? How could this be happening? What exactly was happening? Those thoughts filled her brain before dissolving when his lips once again touched hers. His kiss was so soft and light. It seemed as if he spoke to her in soothing, kind words of healing and understanding… even though… no. He couldn’t. He didn’t even know her. Much less, what she felt or thought. He and she were no more than strangers. Truly nothing beyond that, so how could this be happening? And today, of all days?

His hands left her face and slid down her body, while his thumbs just barely grazed the sides of her breasts. Her nipples beaded in painful knots at the soft, sensual thrills she felt when his hands landed innocently on her waist again.

A knock on the door filled her office. She startled, jumping, and lifted herself off the desk and fell back down. Breathing hard, they ripped their mouths apart but their gazes collided in a moment of amazement and shock. Her mouth dropped open and her eyes widened although his face remained impassive at seeing her panicked glance. That was always how it was with Chet. However, now there was something different in his gaze, something she’d never seen before. Was it a spark? Interest? Concern? Lust? Her curiosity was piqued and Chet seemed to morph from being Chet the busboy to something much more significant, Chet the erotic stranger. She touched her lips, suddenly startled at her epiphany. Confused, even. Then, that quickly, she returned to reality. Her sister’s body had been found. She was gone. Murdered.

Murdered.

“Chloe?” a voice called out as the knock resounded. Chloe sucked in a breath before everything came crashing down unceremoniously. She moved off the desk and quickly turned away from Chet so her blush and the peculiar sensations stirring inside her would cease or at least, not be so visible. He stepped back, giving her more space to breathe.

Ryder opened the door when Chloe failed to answer. Of course, he returned for her. She knew he would. He had to make sure Wyatt would be taken care of. Now, here he was, back to care for her.

Looking towards him, her blotchy face couldn’t possibly give away anything as it was already so messed up. His expression morphed from deep concern to sympathy. “Sorry, I had to get Tara settled to pick up Wyatt and we shut the café down.”

Chloe nodded vacantly, as if by rote. Who cared? Who cared if the café were shut down? Permanently, even? Why did any of it matter anymore? Nothing did now, except Wyatt. He mattered. Other than him, Chloe could not picture working in or caring about the café ever again. Chet stood back, and she peeked at him. His head was bent forward. His eyes looked at her without lifting his head. Her heart was pounding very hard still. Was it from grief? From shock? From whatever just happened with Chet? She was too fuzzy and sore to care. She shook her head, trying to clear the cobwebs and subsequent confusion. Ryder’s gaze landed on Chet, as he was, most likely, wondering what Chet was doing there.

Chet stared at Chloe for another second as he slipped past both of them and went out the door. Not a word. No explanation. Chloe had no idea what to call their encounter. If anything. Did it really happen? Or did her grief concoct an entire illusion?

“Chet… found me in the bathroom and helped me get back over here…” she said in a voice that didn’t ring quite true or sound wholly innocent.

Ryder, however, didn’t seem to think it was odd or off. He was not suspicious although his expression fell as he stepped closer. “Oh, Chloe. Come here.” He swooped her up in his arms in a bear hug. She let herself fall against his chest as he stroked her hair. But there was no chemistry there. Not a flicker of sexual interest or hyper awareness. It was as if Chloe were hugging her dad or her uncle. She never felt anything sexual with Ryder. Not like whatever she just felt with Chet.

She closed her eyes and the burning started again. “Why do you suppose nothing ever happened between us?”

Ryder’s arm muscles flexed. She was sure she threw him a line drive with that, and right now, of all times. “What?”

She pushed back and stared up at him. “I look just like Ebony. Obviously, you were in love with her. So why not me? We’re so close even now. We got so angry at her. How come we never…?”

Ryder shook his head. “Where is this coming from?”

She sighed. “I don’t know. From nowhere. Everywhere. I just feel so confused and betrayed. And you’re the only person I want to talk to and hug… my sister’s husband—”

“Ex-husband. You forget I divorced her.”

She cringed. “You did. You didn’t know at the time though. You had to do it. You had to survive.”

He squeezed her arm with his hand. “Don’t forget that advice then because so did you. And going forward, you must push on now. Whatever it takes, just forgive yourself and make it your purpose to survive. And as for us? I was never interested in you because you weren’t her. You only looked alike on the outside. Ebony wasn’t you and vice versa.”

Her shoulders dropped. “I know. I don’t know why I asked such a stupid question.”

“Because other questions are too hard to ask right now.”

“Yes.” Chloe shut her eyes tightly, like a kid hiding from a monster in the closet. “Yes. It is. I don’t… I don’t know how to do this though. How do I continue? How do I survive after this? How can I accept my sister being murdered?”

“By taking each moment, then each hour, then each day, at a time. And by relying on me. You can call me whenever you like. I’ll always answer and be here for you.”

“I don’t think I’m strong enough to offer you the same courtesy.”

Ryder smiled gently. “I don’t need it.”

She nodded. “No, because you have Tara.” The bitterness Chloe harbored tinged her words. Pressing her tongue to the roof of her mouth, she consciously refrained from adding curse words about the blonde, white, pretty server that Ryder now dated. Now that he was no longer married to her sister, and a widower, and free to date.

“Not at first. Maybe not for years. Don’t try to rewrite it. It was bad. For me, it was bad then, as this is for you now.”

She tilted forwards and leaned into him. “I have to tell my parents,” she whispered, her strength once again diminishing as more tears and sniffles punctuated her words.

“We do. We have to tell them. Or I can. If you’d prefer not to.”

She shook her head. “No. I will. They’ll need me…” The stunning reality hit her. “I’m now an only child.”

“Yes. I’m so sorry, Chloe.”

She leaned on him and fresh tears filled her eyelids. He let her cry on him for a long while before she calmed down. Gathering her things together, she prepared to go home and tell her parents their other daughter was dead.

The café was so quiet. Only Petra and Chet remained. She noticed Chet standing off towards the back of the kitchen. He was changing the garbage bags, and putting a fresh liner in the biggest one. She flushed when her gaze scanned the room and met his. He stopped what he was doing and straightened up. Biting her lip, she turned towards Ryder, who put his hand out for her to hold. Dear God, had she really kissed Chet? The busboy? No way.

She shook it off. Petra came towards her with plenty of hugs and sympathy. She began clucking over her with love and concern, but Chloe could only respond with fresh tears.

“I promise we’ll take care of everything. Don’t worry for a single minute about this place. Whenever you’re ready to return, we’ll all be here, waiting for you. We’re a tight family here and you know that.”

She nodded, but avoided looking at Chet, with whom she just enjoyed something very unlike a family gesture of affection. “Thank you, Petra. I’m afraid you’ll have to take care of everything. I just can’t…” Her voice drifted off. She couldn’t think of what to say, much less did she care now. She was not ready yet to address anything regarding the café, or her future life. Ryder was instantly by her side, resting his hand on her right bicep. He held her purse and light sweater. She blinked in surprise when she realized she hadn’t even considered them. How could he think so clearly still? How could he function so well? She wondered if she could ever function properly again.

Ryder tugged on Chloe and she followed him out towards her sedan. It was parked in her usual spot directly behind the back door. As owner, she always got the prime parking spot. Why not? She was always the first to arrive, and quite often, the last to leave. She put in long days. This place became a success not by accident but after Chloe spent long hours doing anything and everything. Chloe handled it all: changing the garbage, cleaning the bathrooms, washing the dishes, cooking and serving, greeting the customers and totaling the bills. That didn’t include the other paperwork either, from payroll to ordering supplies, and taking inventory. Chloe worked endless hours in order to pull out a decent living for herself and, at one time, for her sister too. But now it belonged only to her although Ryder still received a percentage of her profits.

The parking lot also held Chet’s low-riding Honda Civic. The windows were tinted so darkly, no one could see in. She wilted in the front seat of her car as Ryder sat down in the driver’s seat and moved the seat back. She stared out the window, mindless of the treetops and sky, or the small houses and quaint neighborhoods of Silver Springs. So small a town, but it was her hometown. She spent her entire life here, except for the few years she attended culinary school. That was only fifty miles away in Portland. She never really ventured anywhere. The cooking and running of the restaurant were exactly what she always wanted. She was so proud to own it with her sister, their shared business, which they started on their own. Mostly, she was proud of sustaining it for all these seven years. But now? She kept thinking, what did it matter? How could it possibly ever matter to her again?

Ryder pulled into her parents’ driveway. It was the same house she and Ebony were raised in. Her heart sank into her feet, feeling so heavy that any effort to move seemed like too much. She pushed her knuckles against her mouth. No. No, she could not go in there and destroy her parents. She could not ruin their lives or take away all their hope. They shared the desperate belief that someday, someday Ebony would call. Either the phone would ring or she’d simply show up again in town. Eventually, she would come home. Now? Chloe had to snatch that one hope away from them. She had to give them closure. The final curtain. The end of Ebony.

“I’ll tell them,” Ryder announced. Chloe didn’t argue, but nodded. Dazed, she wondered if she were having an out-of-body experience when she followed Ryder. She could not stay focused. They entered after only a light knock on the front door. It was approaching the dinner hour, so her parents were sitting in the living room, watching the local news as they did every single weeknight. Swallowing the fresh lump that was lodged in her throat and blinking her burning eyes, Chloe kept her gaze fastened on the ground. One look at her face and they’d both know something serious was wrong, so she bypassed them and went directly into the kitchen. She rooted around in the fridge as if she were getting a bottle of water.

Ryder quietly said his customary greeting and exchanged pleasantries before he launched into his articulate, soft, and very tender statement to her parents that their daughter was dead. Not just dead, but murdered. Violently, Ebony was murdered and her body was dumped in a swamp to rot into fodder for wild animals and parasites, the scavengers that ate dead bodies. She shuddered and gripped the counter, sagging over it.

Wait? How was she killed? How had she been murdered? She never even asked about one detail. Her mother was wailing. There was no need to hide her grief anymore. She wobbled towards her parents on shaking legs and collapsed into their embrace when they engulfed her in their arms and cried. She listened as Ryder finished telling them what happened to Ebony. Evidence showed she was shot in the back, a bullet hit her spine. She listened to the gruesome, simple and few details Ryder provided feeling like she was witnessing the exchange from out of her body. Her face was buried against her mom’s shoulder, and her eyes were tightly shut. Her dad rubbed her back in small circles. 

The evening somehow passed. When they overcame their initial shock, a silence descended on the room as if they were all too exhausted to discuss their grief and no words could express it. No questions. Nothing. Ryder was amazing. He tried to coax them into drinking some water and eating some crackers but no one ate. He eventually convinced her mom to lie down after swallowing a sleeping pill. Ryder promised her parents he would answer more questions tomorrow but he had to go home to Wyatt.

Chloe walked him to the door and he wrapped an arm around her and hugged her. “Call me if it becomes too much to bear.”

“It already is…”

“Okay, I mean, if you or they plan to do anything stupid. Just call me.”

“Mom will want to see Wyatt. Can I bring them over first thing in the morning?”

“Of course.”

Chloe watched Ryder leave and shut the door. The house was eerily silent after the bomb that was just detonated. She padded softly back to the couch where she flopped down and placed her head on the armrest before closing her aching eyes. There was nothing left to say or do today. The heaviness in her chest made her wonder if she could ever find a fulfilling reason to talk to or interact with anybody again.

The world just needed to end. Now.

She wished she were only talking about this day.

****

The next morning, her parents awakened her. Staring at nothing but darkness all night, she waited until the dawn before she finally slept. She jerked awake at their firm stirrings. They didn’t smile or even say hello to Chloe, but simply stared at each other. Her parents’ eyes were as swollen and red as hers. There were no words of consolation that could provide any degree of levity. Chloe went into the bathroom and showered before putting on the same clothes. She didn’t even bother eating any food before they drove in silence to Ryder’s house.

There was Wyatt to consider. Hopefully, he’d revive them. Maybe they could even find a few kind words to say to each other. They had trouble just making eye contact. They saw so much grief in each other’s eyes, it made their own tears flow again. Tears fell from everyone’s eyes while they prepared to go to Ryder’s house that morning.

Chloe ran up Ryder’s front steps and knocked at the same time that she rang the doorbell. After a few moments, she opened the door and stepped inside. She stopped dead. Tara. Damn it. Chloe assumed Ryder would have sent his little fluffball packing. But oh, no. There she was, sitting up, with a blanket falling off her shoulders and blinking at them with unmasked surprise. Obviously, they’d woken her up. Seething inside, Chloe tried to remain passive as she introduced her parents to Tara. Something felt wrong inside, but she did it anyway. She shook her head, realizing duh! Of course they already knew Tara. Well, in fact. Tara served them often at the café. Chloe couldn’t find her bearings this morning.

“Where’s Ryder?”

“Still sleeping,” Tara answered as meekly as ever. Despite her pretty blue eyes and blonde-haired beauty, Tara was humble, quiet, and seemed scared at times. It was something that originally endeared her to Chloe, and made her like Tara more. She even hired her because of it. She knew how well men would respond to Tara. There was something fragile and vulnerable about her, yet kind of mysterious. One didn’t fully know where one stood with her. She was unreadable, yet exposed just enough to be intriguing. Chloe was even pushing Ryder towards her, thinking Tara could be good for him. She never guessed she’d end up regretting it as much as she did now.

“Right here.” She turned towards the stairs as Ryder came down. Huh. They must have slept separately last night. Tara was staring at Ryder with hungry, sad, confused eyes. Good. She should have been. Ryder spoke in low tones to her parents. Chloe’s brain grew fuzzy just listening to them. Shaking her head, she tried hard to focus on herself. God. It was so hard. Wyatt understood that his mom, Chloe’s sister, was up in heaven with their Grandmother Pearson. But Grandma died in her eighties, not at age twenty-six.

A sharp jab stabbed her brain, her heart, and her gut, reminding Chloe that Ebony was dead. Murdered. She glared at Tara and her icy tone was undeniable. “Tara, do you mind giving us some privacy? We have family matters to discuss.” Chloe wasn’t sure why she began directing all her anger and grief towards Tara, but she did. That tall, skinny, blonde, white woman taking her sister’s place. Acting like a mother to her sister’s son. A partner to Ebony’s husband. It was so wrong. So wrong. And so unfair.

Her sister should have lived.

Being the good girl that Tara was, she instantly obeyed and ran upstairs. God. Her sister would have slapped anyone’s face who attempted to belittle her or tried to shove her into some corner. She’d never have allowed someone to tell her what to do. Ebony was fierce and outgoing and tough, as well as being strong and kind. Not like a whiny girl who couldn’t even stand by her boyfriend in his time of grief and sorrow. Chloe sneered after Tara’s retreating form. She wasn’t fit to fill Ebony’s shoes, let alone sleep in Ebony’s bed with her man.

There were new details from Ryder, including an investigation and official death notice and waiting. More waiting. Always so much waiting. But Ryder’s certainty that it was Ebony who was found dead never wavered. Not even once.

“Will you—could you lead the investigation?”

Ryder shook his head at hearing her mom’s question. His tone was so gentle every time he addressed her mother. A soft, but firm tone like one might use to explain something difficult or complicated to a child. It grated on Chloe when she heard it. No. Never. Never would there be a day when Adaline Carrington needed coddling or care. Her mother was tough and sassy and bossy. She always had been. That’s where Ebony and Chloe got their attitude. But no longer. Now her mother walked around in a trance and seemed confused about where she was and even who she was.

“No, Adaline. I can’t have anything to do with it…” Her mind spaced out again as Ryder explained how they planned on investigating the murder of her sister and Ryder had not been assigned, of course. She clearly understood why. How could he? How could he stand to conduct such a probe? Her brain vaguely seemed to float out of her body. They could not seriously be discussing her sister, or could they? Her sister, the subject of a murder investigation? A body? An unsolved puzzle? As if it were some kind of new game to solve the mystery.

“How do we… do this?” Chloe said as she zoned back in to her mother’s troubled statements.

Chloe got up and put her arm around her mother’s wide shoulders. She was rather overweight and Chloe rubbed her leg, trying to calm her. Her distress was so real. “What should we do?” What could they do on this day of all days? How did one spend the next day after learning their daughter was murdered? Murdered. Dizziness started to lighten her head and she feared her blood pressure would flatten before she fainted. How could that word—how could murder have become a part of her family’s vernacular? It would forever more belong to them. Becoming a part of their history and any future depictions people sought to describe them. Ebony, their daughter, sister, wife, and mother, was murdered. Murdered. She sucked in a deep breath to keep a whimper from escaping her lips. Any fortitude she may have once possessed disintegrated under the weight of her sister’s death. Her sister was a murder victim, which now warranted an investigation.

And yet this reality existed unbeknownst to all of them for three years and five months. During that time, they erroneously believed Ebony had run away and abandoned them all, even her own baby son. Now, the injustice of that assumption nearly crippled Chloe. They should have known better. Ebony would never have abandoned Wyatt or even Ryder. Of course she knew how much Ebony loved Ryder. And she adored her son despite suffering from postpartum depression. That wasn’t Ebony’s fault either, and no reflection of how she felt about her family. Chloe shook her head. She failed her sister. She knew it. She should have defended her twin sister until her dying breath. She should have denied and rebuffed any accusations or assumptions that Ebony would have ever left any of them.

Of course she hadn’t done that. Chloe’s guilt was as sharp as a scalpel opening her chest and slicing through her heart. Her grief bled out. She wasn’t sure how to proceed with so many contradictory feelings swirling around in her gut. Betrayal. Shame. Guilt. She falsely believed her sister was capable of such terrible things when instead, for all that time, her sister was dead. Buried in a stinking swamp. Rotting and decomposing…

Chloe shivered and her body jerked involuntarily at the thought of it. Decaying. Her beautiful, vital, smiling, shining, young sister was decaying into compost. And meanwhile, they failed to give her the honor and respect she was due. They never laid her to rest.

Chloe suddenly jumped up. “We need—we need to lay her to rest. Now. Not a month from now, or even weeks from now. We believed—we all wrongly believed she did a terrible thing and all this time, she was dead. We have to honor her life, and try to undo all the bad press we spread about her. We need to pay our respects to her now instead of sometime later on. I need to—I need to do this.”

She glanced around and her parents stared at her with visible shock in their gazes. But they didn’t seem fully coherent since finding out what had happened to Ebony. Ryder’s hazel eyes were filled with sympathy. Tears rolled down Chloe’s cheeks and choked her throat. Of course he knew what she meant. How many conversations had they shared over the years? All of them were about bashing Ebony. Endlessly. Ryder seemed stricken. He knew. Ryder recognized Chloe’s guilt since he’d been just as merciless as Chloe in any discussions about Ebony’s disappearance. The things they concluded, the terrible, degrading things. Cursing her with bad names and bad wishes. They bashed her mercilessly. They were devastated at the time, hurt and grieving, which became unresolved anger. Perhaps that was what made them so nasty. But only with each other did they say such things. Ryder nodded slowly at Chloe.

She knew he felt the same guilt she did. He should have known better too. Just as she should have. But what about all the clues and evidence they heard? All the items that supported the reasons why she believed the worst of her sister? She did suffer from postpartum depression after Wyatt was born. It was something that plagued Ebony although mental despair had never entered her life before. And what about when Ryder and Ebony’s savings account was cleared out? No one else had access but Ebony. She’d stolen thousands from Ryder, or so they were led to believe, and what about the note? It came in the mail just two days after her official disappearance. That was the day after they first noticed her unexplained absence. The same day Ryder realized his money was gone. They were both frantically calling everyone they knew, looking for Ebony and any clues as to why she would do something like that.

When the mail came, there was a short letter. In no more than a paragraph, she tried to explain how she made a mistake by getting married and having a baby too young. She needed to get away from them and seek a new life that she really wanted. She couldn’t do it if she stayed in Silver Springs. She knew everyone would be disappointed over her decision and would hate her and she couldn’t face that. Not from Ryder, or Chloe, and certainly not from her parents. She listed all of them in her note.

One night, Chloe and Ryder crumpled the note up and burned it. That thought jarred Chloe now. How could they have done that? It was evidence. It could have been a clue as to who murdered Ebony. And they so blithely burned it one night while drinking together and yet again, bashing Ebony.

Ryder jumped up as she started to wobble. He gripped her arms in his hands, holding her steady. “Of course. We can do that. We can have a proper memorial. We don’t need—”

“A body?” Chloe supplied softly.

“Yes.” Ryder’s gaze held hers, and he seemed sincere in his sadness and empathy towards her. “Exactly.”

“Ryder, the things we said…” She shook her head and her voice drifted off in shame. She couldn’t even own it now, or fully admit how she bad-mouthed and betrayed her sister, the sister whom she used to adore and love, who was literally her other half.

“We didn’t mean any of it. We were just angry. We spoke out of love and pain, actually because we were so angry that she left us. Responding to what we believed. Pretty compelling proof, too. I know, Chloe. I feel the same way too. But try to remember, we didn’t have a damn clue. None. We were duped and whoever was behind it did a fucking superb job of making us believe it.”

Her parents were listening. Chloe nodded and closed her eyes to stem the tears of guilt and sadness. “They did.”

“They really did. I loved her too, Chloe. I did. You know how much. If I could believe that, then so could you.”

“I was her sister. Her identical twin sister—”

“I was her mother, and I believed it too.”

Chloe stiffened at hearing her mother’s words but nodded in response. Her mother got up, struggling to come towards her until she embraced Chloe in a long hug. “We all thought she left us willingly. All of us. Every single one.”

“How do we go about finding forgiveness for ourselves? Just because we aren’t alone in our thinking doesn’t make it all right.”

Her mother’s shoulders lifted and dropped under her arms. “We don’t. We don’t make it right. We just have to let that part go. We did what we could with what we knew at the time.”

She closed her eyes. “Yeah, maybe. It’s just so hard.”

Adaline leaned back and their gazes met. “I agree. And we should put her to rest now. You’re right, and the sooner the better.”

Chloe nodded. Her mother let her go and flopped down as if that exertion took all her energy. Chloe understood because it took all her energy to just be there or anywhere because she was still alive and functioning.

Ryder volunteered to drive. He grabbed Wyatt and they left his house. Chloe wondered briefly about his meek, little mouse, Tara, who was still hiding up in his room, but she didn’t voice any concern. Whatever. What did she care about what Tara did? The woman who was trying so hard to be what her sister should have been, who cared?

Chloe glanced at Ryder as he drove them. They were all so quiet, and she didn’t want to be alone. She needed to be with all of them: Ryder, Wyatt, her parents. At least, they understood. They felt it. They all knew what no words could describe. They all shared the same grief, that no one else could feel as deeply as those crowded into the cab of Ryder’s truck.

Staring out the window, Chloe sighed. She couldn’t bear the thought of Ryder moving on, getting past her sister. Where she once encouraged Ryder to do just that, now she could not stand it. Seeing the timid, quiet face of the blonde he now dated by his side, imagining them in his bed, taking the place where her bold, striking, energy-filled sister should have been and used to be. She could not stand knowing that Ryder was slowly moving past Ebony. Not now. Now that they both knew the reality of her disappearance. She didn’t want Ryder to replace Ebony, and in all honesty, her. She didn’t want Ryder’s life to no longer include her and her parents. His ex-wife’s family. She doubted she could get through this without Ryder. But deep in the pit of her stomach, she knew that after the funeral, Ryder would move on with Tara by his side. He’d continue on with his life, having grieved for his wife before divorcing her. Yes, the discovery of Ebony’s body put a hitch in it all. A devastating one too, because Ryder loved Ebony and he was a decent person. Of course he cared that she was murdered. He would grieve over her violent death. But it wouldn’t stop his life from proceeding, not like it would have three and a half years ago. Chloe knew deep in her gut, it was the past tense, and Ryder no longer was in love with her sister. He was now in love with Tara.

Chloe couldn’t stand that. Not at all. That wimp as a replacement to Ebony? She couldn’t imagine Ryder being with her and not with them. He’d become more worried and careful around them. He’d be there if any of them ever needed him of course, but for once, in a period of years, Ryder was living in a different emotional space than Chloe was. Or her parents were. And it hurt much more than she expected. Jealousy filled her thoughts. Ryder was and always had been like a brother to her for years, even before Ebony disappeared. He accepted her presence in his life when she was more like a third wheel to Ebony. But he was tolerant of their reliance on each other. He even encouraged it when he saw how happy it made Ebony. She got to know Ryder very well. Far better than most in-laws. And when Ebony disappeared, they naturally turned to each other.

Theirs remained a clean, quality relationship, never once tainted by sex or flirting or line crossing. They didn’t share any sparks or uncanny awareness of the other. It was all brother-sister. And the thought of losing that relationship now, especially when she just lost her sister again, her only sister, was unbearable. She was an only child now, and the thought of no longer having exclusive access to Ryder and his son stabbed her heart. Ryder never dated until he met Tara. Not for three years. No one entered his life. He was always so easily accessible to Chloe. They had dinner or chatted or just hung out with Wyatt together. Anytime she wanted, Ryder was there and eagerly available. Her friend. Her confidante. Her brother.

Now? He had that stupid Tara. Now, Chloe had to ask him for his time and attention and she hated that. Especially now that she needed it so badly. Now she had to share Ryder and his time when that was the last thing she wanted to do.