Page 129 of The Wrong Brother

Some things feel safer left unsaid. Frank studies me for a long moment before nodding. He understands anyway, at least as much as he can.

“You finally figured out what matters.”

It isn’t phrased as a question. I glance toward the cabin.

Emma is visible through the kitchen window, talking with the caretaker. Her hands move animatedly as she speaks, and even from this distance I can see her smile.

“Yes.”

Frank follows my gaze. A knowing expression appears on his face, even though it mirrors the compass that seems to have suddenly appeared in my chest. I hate him a little bit for seeing through me so easily.

“About time.”

I roll my eyes, but he ignores me, launching into a warning.

“What you’re about to do?—”

“I know.”

“No, you don’t.” His voice sharpens. “Because if you did, you wouldn’t look so miserable.”

That earns a humorless laugh. Because he’s right, I don’t feel victorious or relieved. I feel like a man preparing to walk into a storm.

Unable to ignore the fact that twilight is settling in, I turn toward Frank. A car will be here for me soon.

“I’ll keep her safe.”

It’s a promise that makes his expression soften.

“I know you will.”

I shake my head. “Not Emma.”

His eyebrows lift.

“The baby.”

Then Frank smiles sadly.

“There it is.”

For years, revenge has been the thing driving me forward. Now, for the first time, it isn’t.

Chapter 34

Emma

The soundof the knock slips into my dreams first, blending with the groan of the wind outside the cabin before dragging me. For a few seconds I lie still beneath the quilts, blinking into the dark as the fire in the woodstove crackles softly from the next room.

Then it comes again.

Rus is gone. It’s only been one day, though. Surely someone hasn’t already come here? Found me—us?

The bedroom is cold as I wrap a sweater around myself and ease open the door, listening carefully. The cabin is dimly lit by dying embers and a single lamp Frank left burning in the kitchen. I expect to find him asleep on the couch, but he’s already standing.

His posture has changed completely.

The easygoing investor who spent the last two days complaining about the lack of a bathtub has vanished. In his place stands someone calm, balanced, and frighteningly alert, his eyes fixed on the front door as another knock echoes through the cabin.