The mood in the Preston house is somber, filled with dread. Tom had gotten a call from Senior Deputy Misty Sanders, and she has news—news she wanted to tell him in person. As soon as he got off the phone with her, he called me. Now I’m here with my mom, along with everyone else who shares/once shared/will share the Preston name.

Everyone besides Lachlan.

He’s nowhere to be seen.

I sit with my mother, let her take my hand.

I don’t belong here.

I’m not his family.

Right now, I truly believe I’m not his anything.

Maybe it’s a defense mechanism.

Or, maybe the past four days have ruined me completely and I’m dead, dead, dead inside.

When Misty arrives, everyone stands. I stay in my seat, grip my mom’s hand tighter. She gets straight to business, speaking to everyone. “Logan’s been arrested for possession down in Myrtle Beach. I have an old friend working at that precinct, and I called in a favor. His charges stand, but he can deal with the consequences here.”

“Possession of what exactly?” Lucas asks. “Marijuana?”

Misty inhales deeply, exhales the same way. “I wish that was all it was, Luke.”

“How bad is it?” Tom asks.

“Cocaine and heroin.”

I stop breathing.

Tom runs a hand across his face. “Jesus Christ.”

Leo says, “He’s never done this before.”

“That we know of,” Luke replies.

Misty adds, “You can pick him up from the station whenever you’re ready.”

Tom grabs his keys, slips on his shoes. Lucas and Leo are right behind him. They don’t ask if I want to come.

“You shouldn’t go,” Lincoln says, freezing everyone to their spots. All eyes turn to him.

“What did you say?” Tom asks him.

“You shouldn’t go. Not right away. Let him rot in there. Think about what he’s done to all of us! We’ve all sat here for days praying he wasn’t lying dead somewhere, and now we find out he’s on some kind of bender? No, you guys. It’s not good enough.” He shakes his head. “It’s not good enough for us, and it sure as hell isn’t good enough for Aubrey!” He points to me. “I mean look at her. Look at what this has done to her!”

I hold back my cry, but I can’t do the same for my tears.

“If you want to go get him, then go, but understand that when he gets back, I’m not going to coddle him. I’m not going to hug him and be grateful that he’s here. And I won’t support him. I just won’t.”

Tom sighs, looks to Lucy.

She’s crying silent tears beneath silent heartbreak.

Tom asks Liam, “Is this how you feel, too?”

Liam hesitates a moment, then nods slowly. “Yeah, Dad. It is.”

“You guys,” Lucas says, his eyes wide in disbelief. “This isn’t up for discussion. We have to go. He’s our brother. Our blood.”

* * *

It takes approximately five hours to drive to Myrtle Beach. The same to drive back. Take in another couple hours for stops and whatever they need to do to get Logan out, and we’re looking at a twelve-hour wait.

The twins have locked themselves in their rooms.

Lucy and Cameron whisper quietly to themselves.

Mom leaves and comes back with food.

I eat what I can. For her.

On the eleventh hour, Lachlan comes home accompanied by his Aunt Leslee, a woman I’ve only met twice. He lies down on the couch, rests his head on my lap. “Is it true?” he asks. “Logan’s coming home?”

I nod, unable to speak.

He wipes a stray tear off my cheek with the tip of his finger. “You remember what I told you about him, right?”

I nod again, and this time, I wipe away my own tears with the back of my hand. I can barely look at him. Blue-blue eyes and dark-dark hair, and he’s the reason we’re here—Logan and me. If it weren’t for him shoplifting all those months ago…

“He’s self-destructive, Aubrey,” Lachlan says. “It’s just the way he is.”

Opposite me, Mom sniffs back her own cries. Whether she’s crying for me or crying for Logan, I don’t know. I don’t ask. “Maybe there’s a reason for it all,” she says. “Maybe…”

“Maybe what?” I push.

Lucy answers, her gaze unfocused, “Maybe the twins are right.”

* * *

It’s 3:30 in the morning when the Preston men return, and I see my heart’s desire for the first time in four days. But he doesn’t look like Logan, not the Logan I know. He’s still in his work pants and work boots and a plain white shirt with too many stains. His eyes are bloodshot, dark circles beneath them, days worth of stubble cover his jaw. Lachlan wakes from his position on my lap, and everyone stands.

Waits.

Lachlan cries.

Lucy cries.

My mother cries.

And I… I am dead, dead, dead inside.

“I’m glad you’re alive,” Lachlan says through a sob, and then Lucy is moving forward, her arms open for Logan.

He lets her hug him but doesn’t return the embrace.

Leo shakes his head.

Mom says, “It’s been a long few days and a late night for everyone.” She attempts a smile. “Why don’t we get you and Aubrey home?”

Logan’s gaze lifts for the first time, his eyes right on her. “Did you know?” he asks, and my gaze snaps to Mom’s.

“Know what?” I ask.

My mom’s shaking her head, lips parted, eyes wide.

“Know what, Mom?”

“Know what?” Tom repeats.

Logan shakes his head. “I’m going to my room. Nobody wake me for, like, five days. I’d really appreciate it.”

He climbs the stairs two at a time, while I watch him and Lachlan watches me. “That’s not his room anymore,” Lachlan says, his voice low so his brother doesn’t hear. He looks to his father. “This isn’t his house anymore!”

“Let’s go, Aubrey,” Mom states. “I’m sure this family has a lot to discuss.”

I start for the door, my legs heavy, my mind numb. Lachlan takes my hand, looks up at me with those eyes so similar to The Boy Who Destroyed Me. “I want to go with you, Aubrey,” he struggles to say though his withheld cry. “I don’t want to be here.”

“You can stay with us, Lachy,” Cameron says. “We can watch movies, eat junk food. Whatever you want, buddy.”

Lachlan holds my entire arm to him. “I said, I want to go with Aubrey!”

* * *

My mom could only stay for so long. After Logan came home, she dropped Lachlan and me back at my house and headed home herself.

Lachlan lies on Logan’s side of the bed, his head on Logan’s pillow. On the wall behind us are the words I once lived by, words I no longer believe in.

You + Me.

Lachlan turns to his side and faces me. “You should try to get some sleep, Red.”

“I can’t,” I whisper.

He asks, “Want me to tell you a bedtime story?”

“Sure.”

He clears his throat. “Once upon a time, there was a superhero with fiery-red hair. Some people described the color of her hair as scarlet. She had an upturned nose with freckles all across it. In her village, she was known as The Red Raven…”

I finally give in to fatigue and fall asleep to Lachlan’s words, my liquid pain hidden beneath my closed lids.