Dylan goes off the deep end two days before Jackson and Dahlia’s wedding. Does he realize what I have to deal with as both caterer and maid of honor? I’m caught between two huge sets of competing responsibilities, both with almost the same deadlines, sky-high expectations, and risks of embarrassment and loss of my best friend if they don’t both come off without a hitch. Smack in the middle of reviewing the meal plan with my catering and serving staff, and handling the last-minute hiccups with the wedding planner, he bursts into my kitchen.

“You need to come with me now, Emily,” he orders me, not caring about the thirteen people who are hanging on the wedding planner’s every word.

I try to be sweet. “We’re really busy, love, but come back in about an hour and a half. I’ll have a few minutes then.”

“No,” he says firmly. “You and I have to leave.”

“Why?”

He leans down and close to my ear, he says, “There’s news about Joy.”

I reach down to the floor, pick up my purse, and excuse myself. That’s a sound rationale for handing off this meeting to the wedding planner’s and my sous chef’s capable hands.

I follow him out from the kitchen through the main floor of the Hamptons area resort Jackson and Dahlia chose for their nuptials.

“What... how... when did you find out about it?” I ask, tripping over each word.

He leads me out to his car in the parking lot. “We need to go now.”

“Where exactly are we going?”

“JFK airport. My contact will give us all the details then.”

The car is silent for the entire ninety-minute drive. My hands won’t stop shaking, my tongue is heavy, and my throat is tight. I can’t think straight with the never-ending list of questions and flood of emotions that wash over me like ocean waves.

When we arrive at JFK, Dylan drives into the short-term parking structure and sends a text on his phone.

“Who are we meeting?” I ask. “Your contact?”

“What I know is the person is in a violet top and blue jeans, and will be wearing sunglasses.”

We jump out of the car and hurry into the terminal. “Are they male or female?”

“Female.”

I take Dylan’s offered hand, glad for the extra support to stay upright while my knees threaten to buckle and give out on me. How are we supposed to see Dylan’s contact through the throngs of travelers and airport staff? There are thousands of people moving in every direction.

“Where are we meeting her?”

Dylan doesn’t answer. As I glance up at him, I notice a hint of a smile on his face. “Dylan?”

“There she is.”

I follow his stare to look for who he’s referring to.

Then I see her.

All the air leaves my lungs. Tears stream down my face. My knees really do buckle, and I feel Dylan’s strong arms wrap around my waist to hold me up.

It’s her.

My baby sister.

It’s Joy.

Her face is unmistakable, even after all these years. She looks almost identical to how I remember Momma.

And goodness, she’s a woman now.

“Joy?”

She’s too far away to hear me, and God, my legs won’t work to save my life right now. Dylan waves in her direction, catching her eyes as they also search the crowd. Then she sees me. Our eyes lock. We stand in our respective spots, frozen, unable to move. It’s Dylan who nudges me forward, shouldering my weight as he half-carries me to her.

“Joy?”

“Yes. It’s me, Em. I’m so happy to see you.”

We wrap our arms around each other, our bodies shaking as we sob, and weep, and heal. I can’t begin to guess how long we stay like that.

I don’t know how Dylan was able to find her or what she’s been through since the day she ran away. And I don’t care.

My sister is back.

* * *

Joy and I sit arm in arm in the back of Dylan’s late model Lexus RC F sports car. It’s a tight fit, but I’m not about to complain about having my sister close to me. Her carry-on luggage is in the front seat as he drives the three of us to the Hamptons. We’re headed back to the wedding, but only because I’m Dahlia’s maid of honor. I told the wedding planner to handle everything else, and she’s happy to oblige me.

Questions about Joy’s whereabouts and abrupt reappearance fight to take control of my mind during the drive back, but I shove them down. All the details of the path life took her will surface in time.

The answers must also appear in Joy’s mind, because she breaks the silence with, “Before you ask, I just want you to know…we were all in Wit-Sec.”

“Sorry?” I have no idea what that means.

“Federal witness protection.”

I turn to her, baffled. “I don’t understand. Why… I thought you ran away?”

“It all started about a month or so before we lost touch. My dad found a suspicious transaction at his accounting firm, and later discovered it was linked to organized crime. Although he didn’t come forward right away, he was approached by a federal prosecutor. After a lot of coaxing, he agreed to turn state’s evidence. It put everyone in his family in danger. We were put into witness protection.”

I don’t mask what must be a puzzled look on my face. “But… the cops told me they were searching for you.”

“The officers who came to you about me were actually US Marshalls. The part about dad getting a job transfer to Europe, and my running away, it was a cover story. They didn’t want you or me to be put in harm’s way if we’d gone from being in communication one day to complete silence the next.”

“Okay… but, that’s kind of how it was for me. You know that, right? I had no idea if you were on the streets, thrown into prostitution, dead. I didn’t know anything. And I did continue to look for you.”

“I’m so sorry it happened this way,” she laments, covering my hand with hers. “Dad and I tried everything to convince the authorities to add you to the program with us, but they refused. Gosh, I’m so sorry to have put you through this, Em.”

“It’s not your fault. So… did they change your name?”

“Yes. They gave us new identities. The Diamond family. I carried the name Abigail over all that time. We were moved to a small town in New Mexico. For the actual court case, it took several tries and over six years to bring it to trial. Dad testified against his boss about a month ago. As soon as his boss was convicted and the threat against our family ended, we were free to take steps to resume our real identities again. And a few days ago, someone Dylan knows found me.” Her tears start to flow again, and she sobs through her words, struggling for breath. “You have to believe me, Emily. Keeping away from you all these years, it broke my heart a little bit every day.”

“Don’t cry anymore, Joy.” I cry too, but I try to be strong for her. “It’s over. We’re back together again.”

We hold on to each other for a long time, then I pull back a bit to see her face again. Goodness, she looks so much like Momma.

“You’re coming to live with us, right?” I ask as the tears subside.

She shakes her head, her face solemn. “I have the weekend, but I can’t stay. It’s my last year of college. We’re smack in the middle of the semester. But, I promise I’ll fly back on all the holidays and all the long weekends between now and my last day of senior year.”

“I hope so. Maybe I can fly out to see you too.”

“Yes, I’d love that. I have to wait for the end of the school year for the administrators to change my name back from Abigail, though.”

“Okay. I’ll try to remember. What are you studying?”

“Fine arts. My major is in contemporary music.”

“That’s awesome,” I say with a smile. “I remember how much you loved to sing. You got that from Momma. And Grams passed down her love for cooking to me.”

Tears flood our eyes again, and we pull into another embrace. With my eyes locked onto Dylan through the rearview mirror, I smile. I hold my baby sister tight and rub her back the way I used to console her when we were little.

We have the rest of our lives to make up for lost time.

I’m whole. We both are. After what I put Dylan through, maybe he is too.

The shattered pieces at the corner of my heart have been put back together again. Thanks to Dylan. He wanted me to have this moment. I’m overflowing with gratitude. He brought my sister back to me. He reached into that hidden part of my soul and washed it clean. He prepared me for today with his unconditional love. I can’t ever thank him enough.

I didn’t believe I could love him any more than I already do.

But God, I really do.

As we arrive at the Hamptons resort, I let go of Joy for a moment. Reaching over to him, I rest my head on his shoulder. “I’m so gonna thank you for this later,” I say for only him to hear and he smiles, kissing my cheek. “Let’s set a date for the wedding. I can’t wait to be Mrs. Emily Worthington.”