Page 288 of Silver Sweet

I don’t disagree.

“Incoming,” Phoenix announces with two nails between his teeth. He’s walking backward with something huge in his arms. Beckett holds the other end.

A midnight-blue sheet covers what looks like a framed picture or portrait or…

“Wait, is that…?” I trail off, frozen as I stand in the middle of my room, as Beckett and Phoenix prop what I’m almost positive is a painting on my dresser. It’s the same size as the Thomas Cole painting that I threw out—the one destroyed during my birthday rager.

Apropos, considering it wasDestruction.The fourth painting in Cole’s five-partThe Course of Empireseries.

“Here, okay?” Phoenix points to the free space on the wall while taking out a hammer from his ass pocket.

That shouldn’t be attractive. Fuck him for literally making a hammer look hot. This should be illegal in front of my family. A crime…I hope he keeps committing.

“Tom.”

“Yeah, there’s good.” While he pounds in a nail, I tell Beckett, “You didn’t have to buy me a replacement.” I motion to our little brother. “I already told Ben that I fully intended to get a replica at some point.”

It’s not as though our parents gifted us originals, but they are limited edition, hand-painted oil reproductions. Not thirty-dollar art prints.

Beckett ignores me. Rude. He helps Phoenix line up the second nail, then he says, “I didn’t buy you anything.”

My brows crunch. “I don’t understand.” I study the covered object still propped on the dresser. “This is a Thomas Cole painting, isn’t it?”

“It is.” Beckett gives me another superpowered smile, then he slips the sheet off the ornate frame. “I’m giving you mine.”

My eyes blow wide at the beautiful, bright imagery. So unlike the grim painting that’d been in my room for years.

A light blue sky with no haze of smoke. Pristine white marbled buildings, arches, and domes. Ships sail through crystal clear waters. Kids play in a fountain. People joyfully flood the harbor and crowd a bridge for an elegant procession.

It’s grand, perfected beauty. An empire at its height of power. Where excess pride could topple everything. But it hasn’t yet. In this frame, it’s all contained.

I have no words.

But then I do, “Are you sure?” He’s the only one who hasThe Consummation of Empire.Consummation—as in complete fulfillment.

Beckett has no reluctance. “I think this one was always meant to be yours.”

Phoenix pushesthe luggage cart into the elevator while I pull, and then I press the 21 button about five times. “Doors shut, doors shut, door shut.” They close on Charlie’s soured expression. I hope he heard my snicker and saw my middle finger.

“Too slow, Charlie Keating,” I muse to myself while standing victoriously on the packed luggage cart. I will be rehashing this epic takedown to Eliot.

Phoenix is half-texting, half-watching me. “You are such a fucking little brother.”

“He loves it,” I say. “Watch, I bet he’ll be at every city for The Carraways World Tour.”

Presales went live during the holidays, and it crashed Ticketmaster. Phoenix and I created a tour schedule that wouldn’t burn us out. All the shows are on the weekends, so we’ll be spending our weeks in New York with our brothers…and my sister.

Audrey’s existence in the city is still sinking in.

Even with a bellman’s cart full of her Prada luggage.

“Everything okay?” I ask Phoenix since he’s been texting one-handed.

“Birdie just told me he’s playing at The Manhattan Symphony next week. I was checking for tickets.” His eyes rise to mine with a little more apprehension.

After Nothing Personal’s tour ended last month, Birdie dropped out of the band. Apparently, he told Phoenix that he needed to be all-in somewhere. He chose the orchestra.

Phoenix has mixed emotions since it’s not what his brother dreamed of doing.