I don’t run or stomp my way to the house. Instead, I stroll calmly over, my room the ultimate destination for several reasons.
First, if I’m in a tizzy, my mother will not only know I eavesdropped—which, in itself, was wrong of me—but it will upset her all over again if she learns I’m distraught. There has to be a good reason she didn’t tell me. It may be as simple as her thinking it wasn’t any of my business, or Sebastian swearing her to secrecy…both reinforcing the wrongness of my eavesdropping.
And secondly, if I go steamrolling through the house, my father will drill me for answers—and I’m damn near positive he doesn’t know a thing about any of this. If he did, Sebastian wouldn’t have been allowed to leave the house, let alone the country—and neither Clay nor Savannah would’ve been permitted to step foot on our property before tonight.
And Sammy? No way am I hanging a cloud of doom over his day, although it appears there’s already one in place.
“Hey, bud, what’s wrong?” I ask him when I reach the porch. He’s sitting with his arms folded over his knees, his tiny head resting on top of them.
“Where the heck is Kingston?” he gripes.
Good question. I glance around the yard, coming up empty on spotting his truck. And now that I actually have time to think about it, Kingston has been conveniently absent for today’s entire shit storm. Too bad we’re merely acquaintances these days, or I could’ve been spending time with him and avoided the whole thing myself.
“I don’t know, Sammy.” I slide down beside him. “Why? You waiting on him?”
“Yes! I’ve been waitin’ forever. He promised to work on secret stuff with me this morning, but he didn’t come.” He peers up at me with tears brimming in his big, chestnut eyes, and everything deep within me that I’d just managed to somewhat calm snaps.
I’ve officially hit my breaking point. Both my brothers wronged? People may think I have no wrath to unleash, and just I—Echo—usually don’t. But Sebastian and Sammy’s sister can bring a fury that’d send Satan running.
I inhale a big, soothing breath, then paint on a smile for Sammy.
“What kind of secret stuff we talkin’ about? Maybe I can help.”
He looks around twice, then leans in to whisper, “My magic show. Kingston’s been helping me. It’s almost ready, and Dad will think it’s so good I know he’ll let me do it at the Christmas show!”
My smile widens at the excitement in his voice. Such a sweet boy. How dare Kingston stand him up! Only a horse’s ass would leave a little boy, whose entire face brightens when he talks about his goal, sitting and waiting on the porch all day.
“I’ll help you.” I rustle his hair. “I’d love to see how it’s coming along.”
“Thanks Echo, but…” He squirms around, no longer looking at me.
“But what?”
“You don’t know all the tricks and stuff. I need my assistant.” He hurries to hug me, tucking his head against my shoulder. “Sorry. Maybe next show.”
Did I just get turned down by my nine-year-old brother? I’d laugh, except he’s completely serious—and way too precious to possibly offend. Plus, I can’t seem to laugh about anything when there’s still a bed of hot embers broiling under my skin.
And I won’t break his spirit, so I speak at the same level of importance he does.
“That makes sense. You should stick with the same assistant. I’m glad it wasn’t just some silly no-girls-allowed thing.” I conjure up what passes for a weak snicker. “I’m sure Kingston will be here soon—but if not, or if you change your mind, just come get me.”
“Okay! I’m gonna go set everything up so it’ll be ready when he gets home.”
And off he sprints, with a carefree optimism I don’t ever remember having, even when I was nine.
He’s halfway to the shed before I quietly head up to my room and find my phone. First, I type out a text to Kingston, bruising both thumbs with my ferocity.
Me: Did you forget you promised to work with Sammy today? He’s been sitting on the porch waiting for you! Hope you have a good reason for hurting a little boy’s feelings!
Next, I call Sebastian, but he doesn’t answer. I try again with the same result: voicemail.
I decide to leave one, airing some of the turmoil brewing inside me.
“Hey, brother, it’s Echo…listen, I really need you to call me. Don’t panic—nothing’s wrong with any of us here. We just…need to talk. Call me back as soon as you can, Seb, no matter what time it is. Love you.”
I hang up and decide to try unwinding by taking a long, hot bath. There’s still no call back from Sebastian, or arrival of Kingston, by the time I’m done. The latter hasn’t even read my text, let alone replied.
Needing to further distract my restless thoughts, I finish some homework, then start a book I’ve been dying to find the time to read. I’m soon lost in a beautiful story of star-crossed lovers—too perfect for my mood today—when someone knocks on my door.
“Hey, honey,” my mom says, poking her head in. “You’ve been up here a while. You okay?”