Tate, the project manager—who took me under his wing when I started interning at the firm during my second year—and Simon have worked together on a few projects in the past, including the Boston project. Tate and I met while I was volunteering at a Deaf Awareness fundraiser. He was doing pro bono work at the Western Heights School and Center for the Deaf to make the facilities more hard-of-hearing student oriented. We had gotten along very well because we had a common goal. After being turned down by several companies for their internship programs, both Simon and Tate vouched for me and I was accepted as an architect intern at Lawrence and Barnes. No one batted an eyelash when Tate mentioned he’d show me the ropes, which was a good thing. Sometimes people get awkward, not sure how to react or talk to someone who is hard of hearing.
To impress the interviewer further, I’d presented a 3D model of a low-cost beachfront house I’d worked on the previous summer, hoping it would help them solidify their decision to hire me. Also having worked in my dad’s firm as a teen added some weight to my portfolio. I spent most of my free time in the studio to accrue work experience hours needed for the architectural program. If everything goes as planned, I should be ready to register for the licensure exams in a year or so.
Sleeping is not a priority right now, though. My head is full of unprocessed thoughts and things I have to come to terms with.
I take a deep breath and concentrate on getting to my destination without causing any accidents.
Fifteen minutes later, I park the truck outside my parents’ house. My gaze drifts to the house next to it, as though some force is pulling me toward it. Memories of the time spent here on that roof hit me hard.
Fuck.
I can’t breathe.
I grip the wheel and wait for the feeling to pass. Then I fling my door open, grab the carrier and my bag. I stride toward the house I grew up in, keeping my eyes averted from Nor’s childhood home.
The door flies open. My little brother—I’d know that shaggy hair of his anywhere—Nick, dashes out, barreling toward me. He skids to a halt and throws his arms around me.
Whoa.
I set the bag and carrier down, and then wrap my arms around his shoulders.
He pulls back and lifts his hands, and signs, “It’s so good to see you, bro. Mom called to let me know you would be dropping by.”
“You should stop growing so the rest of us can catch up,” I tease him.
He laughs. “As if I would. I need to be able to look down on you all.” He glances down, then back at me. “Who is this little guy?”
“Sirius.” The cat opens its eyes and meows in greeting. Sometimes I think this cat is half human.
Nick grabs the box from the ground and nods for me to follow him. I place a hand on his shoulder to get his attention. He stops and turns around.
“Slow down. How are you holding up?”
The smile on his face fades. He shifts on his feet, averting his eyes from mine and then blinks several times to keep the tears at bay.
“I’m trying. We’re all trying.” He fixes his gaze on mine and grins tiredly. “It’s all about hope, right? That’s something we can’t afford to give up on.”
He and I know that Josh’s death is inevitable. Hope is like a red flag, waving in the distance. If I let myself reach for it, it will sway and all I will end up with in my hands is air.
“Don’t do this, Nick. Please.”
His shoulders slump forward. He blinks furiously, working his jaw. “I can’t afford not to. I can’t think of Josh being gone. He’s my big brother for shit’s sake.”
“Come here.”
I meet him halfway and he falls in my arms.
“Look at me,” I command and he obeys, blinking tear-filled blue eyes at me. “I’m here now, all right?”
“You weren’t here. You left.” His nostrils flare in anger.
“You know why I left, Nick. You do, right?”
He glares at me, his jaw clenched. With a quick nod, he averts his gaze and swipes the wetness on his cheek with the back of his free hand. My hands flex beside me, fighting the urge to comfort him, but I hold back. He needs some time to work out what he is going through right now.
He rolls his shoulders, meeting my gaze again but now the anger is gone. “It fucking sucks, you know? That bastard ruined everyone’s life around here.” He jabs a finger toward the house next to ours.
I glance again at Nor’s house, grinding my teeth. My blood boils in my veins just thinking about that asshole and I yank my gaze away back to face my brother.
“He’s not around. No one knows where he is. Good riddance,” he says, obviously noticing my anger. “No one lives there anymore.”
I raise a brow. “Nor’s mother?”
He shakes his head. “Divorced his sorry ass. She lives with some dude in Phoenix. You hungry? I can whip up something for you.”
Good for her.
I nod answering his question. I can’t even remember the last time I ate. “Thank fuck you asked.”
Nick flashes me a smile and heads to the door. I follow him inside the house, embracing the familiarity of the place I left years ago.