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Eddie walks through the door, mindlessly tossing his keys onto the side table by the entrance. He’s been at work all day, and he’s been looking forward to a quiet evening. He’s taking his shoes off, wistfully dreaming about planting himself on the couch for the next twelve hours, when he realizes that his scheme would never come to fruition. The second he steps into the kitchen, he sees it— Buck, clipboard in hand, moving with the restless intensity of someone trying to control a storm. Eddie can practically feel the focus pouring off of him, a mix of determination and mania that is beyond dangerous when Buck’s in wedding-planning mode.
"Didn’t Hen warn me about this?" Eddie asks, leaning against the counter with his arms crossed. "When she told me to watch out when I got home, I wasn’t sure what to expect. Have you had food and water today? Hell, have you been sleeping?"
"Don’t make fun of me," Buck replies, shooting Eddie a look sharp enough to cut through steel before returning to his checklist. "I’m too busy for that right now. Okay, we’re at the ceremony. We haven’t decided if we’re both walking down the aisle or if, you know, one of us is already up there, looking all…”
"Dashing and handsome?” he suggests, shrugging. “Both of us could walk. Chris could lead me.”
Buck freezes mid-pace, pen suspended in the air. "Chris?" He blinks, then raises an eyebrow in disbelief. "You want your fifteen-year-old to walk you down the aisle? That’s… really sweet. Uncharacteristically so."
Eddie scoffs, smacking Buck’s arm. "I can’t believe I’m marrying you. LA’s bachelors should thank me for getting you off the streets."
“They will,” Buck counters smoothly. “I’ve already allotted time for that on the wedding day. All of the singles of greater Los Angeles are set to line up and kiss your feet with gratitude at exactly eleven o’clock.”
Eddie raises his hands in mock surrender. "Point taken, big guy. So, if Chris gets me, who gets you?"
Buck’s face falls for a moment, and Eddie sees the hesitation creeping in.
"You kind of stole my idea," Buck admits sheepishly. "I was gonna poach Chris for myself. Now I’m unsure." He lets out a sigh, looking back down at his list, but Eddie can see the tension in his jaw. "And I don’t really want to talk to either of my parents about this."
"Yeah, I get that," Eddie grimaces. "But what about Bobby?"
"Bobby?" Buck echoes, his brow furrowing in confusion. "What do you mean?"
A grin tugs at Eddie’s lips. "Come on. You know what I mean. The entirely of the LAFD knows what I mean. Plus, he’d do it in a heartbeat."
Buck squints, mulling it over. Eddie observes as he sorts through layers of feelings, complicated as they are. They’ve had this conversation before, the one about Bobby. But sometimes it takes a little while for things to click. Their status as a couple is a testament to that.
"I don’t know," Buck mutters, shifting his weight. "He’s always been there for me, but…"
He runs a hand through his hair, and Eddie can tell that the weight of the decision isn’t just about who would lead him down the aisle. It’s about what it would mean. There’s always been this undercurrent of something unresolved, some part of Buck that felt like he wasn’t quite enough for either of his families.
Eddie gives him a long look. "You don’t have to decide now," he says quietly. "Just something to think about."
But Buck isn’t really listening, a habit Eddie is well accustomed to. Then it happens—a slow, dawning realization. His expression shifts, something clicking into place.
"No," he breathes, as if the answer just arrives to him. "There’s only ever been one person."
–
The sky hung heavy and gray, suffocating the churchyard in which Maddie’s hand rested in her father’s grip. She stared up at the dark, polished casket, barely big enough to hold her brother, and for a moment, it all felt like a strange, impossible dream.
Beside her, Margaret sobbed, her face pale and set in a way she had never seen before. She glanced over, hoping her mother would look back and give her one of those comforting smiles she used to offer whenever she was scared, but Margaret’s eyes were cast on the ground, hollow and far away, as if she’d already gone somewhere else.
Maddie’s fingers clutched the small bouquet of daisies she’d picked out that morning. She shivered as a light drizzle began to fall, small drops gathering on the petals. She could almost hear Daniel’s teasing— daisies are baby flowers, he would have said, but he’d still beam, just like he always did when he took her out to hunt for them. He knew she loved them, so he’d play along, even though he found them silly. They would wander to the edge of the driveway, where little purple and yellow weeds peeked through, her older brother crouching to find the prettiest ones just for her. She thought of the flowers filling their house now, sent by people she barely knew, and how Daniel wouldn’t have liked any of them.
But maybe these ones, the ones she’d picked herself, would be different. People kept saying he was “still here” somehow, watching over her, so she hoped he’d understand.
Her father’s grasp tightened, and she glanced up to see him staring at the casket. She tried to find some trace of her own ache in his face, some hint that he was just as lost, but she saw nothing. Without a word, he lifted her up, his arms strong but tense, as if he was holding himself together just as firmly as he was holding her. She squeezed her bouquet as he raised her high enough to look over the coffin’s rim. Her breath caught when she saw Daniel— his face so still, framed by delicate, brushed curls. He seemed peaceful, as though he was just resting and would wake up any moment to laugh at her.
He didn’t.
She laid the flowers on his chest.
The service ended, and they turned to walk back toward the crowd. Her grandmother was holding Evan— her brother, a year old, bundled in his blue blanket. Maddie watched as she rocked him, cooing softly to keep him calm. Evan shifted a little, unaware of the sadness surrounding him. He was too young to feel the loss hanging in the air.
When they reached her, she lifted Evan toward their mom, offering him carefully. But Margaret stepped back and a look Maddie didn’t quite understand passed over her—one of fear, of pain, of something even colder.
“No,” her mother said, her tone low and sharp. “I can’t… I can’t hold him right now.”
She felt her heart sink as her Margaret turned away. She folded her arms around herself, like she was trying to block out everything around her. Her father set her down and placed a hand on his wife’s back, but she didn’t even glance at him, her stare as unfocused and distant as it had been when she had been standing in front of the coffin. Maddie’s grandmother shifted Evan against her shoulder, her face etched with grief, and she glanced towards her daughter-in-law, reaching out a hand.
“Margaret, he’s just a baby,” she cautioned, her words laced with quiet urgency. “He’s yours too, you know.”
She flinched, her lips pressing together. “He was supposed to…” Her voice cracked, and she looked away, her spine rigid. “He was supposed to save Daniel. And now… now he’s all that’s left, and I don’t know if I can…”
The older woman gave her a frown. She rocked Evan, soothing him as he began to fuss, his nose scrunching up as if he sensed the tension around him. “He’s not just a reminder, Margaret. He’s your child. He deserves his own place. You still have a son here, even if he wasn’t able to… change things the way you hoped.”
She stood still, feeling her mother’s grief and her grandmother’s desolation like bricks on her small shoulders. She felt Daniel’s absence too. She watched Margaret turn away from Evan.
Maddie reached out, letting her hand brush against his tiny fingers, his face relaxing into a tranquility that only babies seemed to know.
She tugged at her grandmother’s sleeve. “Can I… can I hold him?”
She looked down at Maddie, surprise crossing her features. “Of course, honey.” Prudently, she knelt down, helping her settle onto the steps outside the church before placing Evan in her arms. Maddie felt his weight settle against her, his head nesting in the crook of her neck. She tightened her hold. He barely stirred.
On the ride home, Maddie refused to set him down. She knew that he was supposed to be in his car seat, but nobody had said anything when she crawled into the back with him still in her arms. Her grandmother sat next to her, and Philip occasionally glanced at them in the rearview mirror. In the passenger seat, her mom’s gaze pointed straight ahead like an arrow. Evan slept the entire way, gripping the edge of her sweater, and Maddie felt like he was anchoring her. The gravity of the morning, of Daniel’s body, still pressed down on her.
When they arrived home, she waited for her father to open the door before carefully stepping out. Evan stirred and opened his eyes for a moment, giving her a sleepy, unfocused look. She brushed the back of her hand gently along his cheek. “It’s okay, Evan,” she whispered. “I’ve got you.”
Her grandmother watched her from the porch, a smile on her face as Maddie walked inside. She moved slowly, her stride ginger, and finally sat down on the living room couch, settling him back against her shoulder as he drifted off again.
Margaret lingered by the stairs, her sight flickering briefly to her children before she turned away. Philip followed. Maddie peeked down at Evan, resolve growing inside her. She might not be able to fill the spaces that Daniel left behind, but she could be here for her sibling. She’d be his big sister, his protector, the one who held him when no one else would.
She’d watch out for him like Daniel had for her.
And so she stayed there, in the silence of their living room, holding her baby brother long after everyone else had drifted away. She laced his finger through hers.
“I’ll always be there for you. I pinky promise.”
–
Maddie heard the tap of little feet on the floor before the quiet knock at her door. She barely had time to register the sound before it came again— tentative, urgent. She sighed, knowing exactly who it was. The thunder had been rolling for a while now, the loud cracks shaking the windows, and Evan had always been scared of storms. She could picture him standing outside her room, clutching his stuffed cat, expression set wide with fear.
“Evan?” she called, her voice soft but warm. “Come in.”
The door creaked open, and Maddie didn’t need to see him to know what was happening. His small, trembling form appeared in the dim light, eyes filled with tears he hadn’t yet let fall. Maddie felt a pang in her chest.
“Come here,” she urged, shifting over in bed to make room for him.
He didn’t need to be told twice. In an instant, he was beside her, scrambling onto the mattress. Maddie pulled the covers around both of them, making sure he was warm and tucked in. She could feel the way his tiny body shook, his hand gripping hers with the kind of desperation only a four-year-old could have.
“Thunder’s loud,” he muttered.
Maddie smoothened his hair. “I know, but it’s just noise. It’s like when you bang the pots and pans together in the kitchen. It’s loud, but it can’t hurt you.”
He nodded slowly, trying to believe her.
“I went to Mom and Dad’s room first,” Evan confessed, his words tumbling out like they’d been stuck inside him. “But... they told me to go back to bed. They said it was just a storm, and... I don’t think they wanted me there.”
Maddie’s heart squeezed.
“That’s not fair,” Maddie whispered, rubbing circles on his back. “I’m sorry, Evan. You should never feel like you have to be alone when you’re scared.”
He sniffed, but didn’t respond. The thunder cracked again and she felt him flinch.
“Hey, it’s okay,” Maddie murmured. “It’s just noise, remember?”
Evan didn’t seem convinced, eyeing her with scrutiny. “But it’s so loud.”
“I know, it’s loud,” Maddie repeated patiently. “But I’m here, okay? I won’t let anything happen to you.”
Evan nodded, but his clasp on her didn't loosen. She found she didn’t mind. She let him hold on, knowing how much comfort that simple touch brought him.
She glanced down at him. “You know what?” she said, trying to distract him. “I can tell you a story. Want to hear a good one?”
And she started telling him one of the stories Daniel made up for her once, a tale about a brave knight and a magical dragon. She could feel him relaxing as the land of magic washed over him, pulling him into a world far away from the storm. The thunder still rumbled outside, but it became less important as she talked, and his breathing slowly evened out.
By the time the roaring had passed and the hero had defeated the villain, Evan had long drifted off to sleep. He was still burrowed into Maddie, his head resting against her collarbone.
She remained awake, her arm around him, just in case.
She would stay there as long as he needed.
–
Maddie had seen it in the way Evan’s shoulders slumped when he came home from school, in the silence that hung over him, in how he kept to himself more and more, and in how his laughter had become a rare thing.
She recognized the signs. She’d been there herself after Daniel had passed, their family moving to a new town in the middle of the year. Kids could be harsh. They said things they didn’t even realize were hurtful— or worse, things that were meant to hurt. And Evan was different from her. He felt everything more keenly, lugging his heart like it was a heavy stone. Maddie had tried talking to him about it more than once, but he never said much. He kept his head down and his emotions buried until they started showing in other ways—his reluctance to go to school, his dejected expression when he came home. She knew he was being picked on, even if he wouldn’t say it out loud. Maddie hated it. She hated how powerless she felt, how there was nothing she could do to fix it.
So that morning, as she watched him poke listlessly at his cereal, she decided to do something about it.
“Hey, Ev,” she said, leaning against the doorframe. “You okay?”
He didn’t turn to face her right away.
“I’m fine,” he announced, but Maddie could hear the hesitance in his voice. Eight year olds weren’t great liars.
“You wanna do something today?” she proposed casually.
“Like what?” he inquired, looking up at her with a bit more curiosity.
Maddie’s eyes twinkled. “How about we skip school?”
Evan’s mouth dropped open in disbelief. “What?”
“Come on, you deserve a break,” she declared, sitting on the chair across from him. “You’re not going to school today. You’re going to Hersheypark with me. We’ll make it a day only for us. No bullies. No homework. Just you and me.”
His face lit up with a mix of excitement and shock. “But... we can’t...”
Maddie cut him off. “Yes, we can. It’ll be our secret. We’ll go to the theme park, and you won’t have to worry about anything. Besides, Mom and Dad just got me the Jeep—we’ll break it in together.”
Evan hesitated before his lips curved into a small grin. “Really? You mean it?”
She reached across the table to ruffle his hair. “Yeah kid, I mean it. Finish your food and we’re out of here.”
On the drive, Maddie noticed him singing along to the radio—a sound she hadn’t heard in a while.
Hersheypark was everything they’d both hoped for: bright, colorful, and full of sugary sweet temptations. The smell of chocolate was heavy in the air, and the howls of children mixed with the rumble of roller coasters in the distance. For a few hours, it was perfect. They lounged high above the park, laughing as they pointed out all the little details below, won a bear from a claw machine, and knocked milk bottle pyramids down. Maddie was happy to cough up her allowance money for Evan’s joy.
But then something happened. Maddie wasn’t sure when exactly it began, but somewhere between the bumper cars and the cotton candy kiosk, Evan had wandered off. She hadn’t noticed at first, distracted by the flashing lights of a game booth. When she turned around, he was gone.
“Evan?” she called out.
No response.
Her stomach churned with panic. She called out louder, her breath coming faster, but any noise she made was drowned out.
She pushed through crowds, searching frantically. She’d promised him a good day. She couldn’t lose him now.
The world spun around her. She pushed through people, ignoring the stares people gave her and the elbows that landed in her ribs. She’d heard enough horror stories about kids that went missing, she had to find him. She couldn’t lose another brother.
Just as she felt her knees weakening, she caught sight of a security officer near one of the snack stand. He was a tall man, wearing a crisp blue uniform and a sympathetic expression, and he began approaching her before she could even flag him down.
“You seem like you could use some help,” he said, stepping toward her.
Maddie swallowed hard to keep her tone steady. “I—I lost my little brother. He was just here a minute ago, and now I can’t find him.”
“It’s okay. Can you tell me what he looks like? His name, and what he’s wearing?”
She took a deep breath. “His name’s Evan. He’s eight, about this tall”—she motioned with her hand—“with blond hair. He’s wearing a red T-shirt and khaki shorts. He has a birthmark above his right eye.” Her voice wavered on the last part, a horrible knot of guilt tangling in her throat.
“Let’s go to the main office. From there, I can call out a description over the intercom, and security teams will start searching right away. Don’t worry, we’ve got a great track record of reuniting families.”
Maddie clung to his reassurance, but she couldn’t shake the gnawing fear that this was all her fault. She had planned this day to help Evan de-stress, and now, he was out there somewhere, scared and alone, and maybe thinking she’d abandoned him.
The office was in a brownstone building just off from the rollercoaster, and Maddie could easily hear the screams of people being turned upside down as she waited in one of those uncomfortable plastic chairs. The man picked up a radio and spoke into it, relaying Evan’s description to other staff members.
“Alright. We’re searching all the areas he might be. Sometimes kids just wander off when they see something interesting. It’s normal.”
She tried to hold onto his optimism. Minutes passed. She imagined him in every possible situation— frightened, crying, desperately calling out her name. She didn’t know which was worse. Then, suddenly, the radio crackled.
“Found the boy near the Merry-Go-Round. He’s safe and sound.”
Relief flooded through her in a dizzying wave. She pushed through the glass doors and began sprinting towards the carousel, the world around her blending into a mix of colors. Tears finally spilled over when she saw another security guard with a small figure in a red shirt clutching a teddy. He dashed towards her the moment he spotted her, and they met in the middle, Maddie skidding to her knees to pull him into a hug.
“Evan, I’m so sorry,” she whispered. “I didn’t mean to lose you.”
“I got scared,” he mumbled, burying his face in her hair. “I couldn’t find you, and... I didn’t know where to go.”
“I know,” Maddie affirmed, holding him with desperation. “But I’m here now. I’ll always find you, I promise.”
The officer cleared his throat. “I’m glad you’re reunited,” he said, his tone shifting slightly. “But we’ll need to call your parents. Just a formality, of course. We need to let them know what happened.”
A sinking feeling threatened to pull her under. “Oh… could we—” She stopped, realizing it was no use trying to ask for leniency.
Half an hour later, they were sitting on a bench just outside the park’s main entrance, waiting for their parents to arrive. Evan was quiet, still clutching the toy. The excitement of the day had faded, replaced by an anxious silence. Maddie couldn’t bring herself to look at him. God, how she’d let him down.
When their parents arrived, their mom’s face was a storm of emotions—worry, anger, and an unmistakable sense of seriousness. She rushed over to them, immediately pulling Evan into a hug before turning to Maddie.
“What were you thinking?” she hissed, harsh and cutting. “You skipped school, Maddie. Without telling anyone. And you dragged your brother into this… stunt. Do you have any idea what could have happened to him? To you?”
Maddie opened her mouth, but her mother’s glare silenced her. She felt herself shrinking under her gaze. She tried to speak, but her throat felt tight, her words failing her. She glanced at Evan, who was looking between the two women, his small face a picture of guilt.
“Mom, it was my idea, too,” he interjected. “Maddie just wanted to make me feel better.”
“No, Evan, this isn’t about you. It’s about your sister’s poor judgment. You don’t get to make reckless decisions, Maddie. You’re older, you’re supposed to set an example. And what example did you set today?”
Maddie’s cheeks flushed with shame. Her mom’s words made her feel small and foolish. “I’m sorry. I just wanted him to have a good day.”
But Evan wasn’t ready to let her take all the blame. He stood in front of her, standing up to Margaret with the courage she hadn’t expected.
“It wasn’t her fault,” he claimed with new confidence. “She was just trying to help me, because... because school’s been really hard lately.” His voice cracked, and his eyes fell to the ground, his fingers gripping the stuffed bear.
She felt Evan squeeze her hand gently, his small fingers pressing into her palm. Despite everything, he was still on her side.
Their dad, who had been watching quietly, finally stepped in with a sigh. “We’ll discuss this more when we get home,” he said. Her mother seemed ready to keep pushing, her mouth set in a thin line, but she stopped when Philip gave her a sharp look. “We don’t need the entirety of Hershey hearing our argument.”
“Fine. Later,” she muttered, casting a disappointed glance at Maddie. “This isn’t over.”
As they headed towards the car, she felt Evan’s hand slip into hers again. She peeped down at him to see a small smile, one that she had been hoping to see all day.
“Thanks for today, Maddie,” he whispered. “Even if we got in trouble, it was the best day I’ve had in a long time.”
Maddie squeezed his hand back. Whatever the consequences, she knew one thing for certain—she would always be there for Evan, no matter what.
–
Maddie was finally relaxing. She and Doug were seated in a corner booth at their favorite burger place, the lights low, a vinyl record crackling melodically in the background. Her boyfriend had his arm slung around her, and for once, he was actually smiling. She leaned into him, hopeful that their date would be easy— no cold shoulder, no complaints about her schedule, just a quiet night together. She was beginning to settle into him when her phone buzzed on the table, making them both jump.
Doug’s arm slipped off her shoulder, his expression shifting to impatience. “Aren’t we supposed to be having lunch?”
Maddie shot him an apologetic look, reaching for her phone. “It’ll just take a second.”
As soon as she saw the number, a sense of dread washed over her. It was Evan’s school. “It’s probably nothing,” she maintained, standing up to take the call a few steps from the table. “Hello?
“Good afternoon, is this Ms. Buckley?” came a voice from the other end.
“Yes, this is her.”
“I’m Nurse Janice Bowden, calling about Evan Buckley. We tried reaching your parents, but couldn’t get through, and you’re listed as the next contact.”
Maddie’s concern flared. “Is he okay?”
“He’s alright—just some bruising, but we’re monitoring him for a concussion, though it appears unlikely at this stage. He’s shaken up and… could use a familiar face.”
She exhaled, glancing back at Doug, who was watching her with an irritated expression. “I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”
When she returned, her boyfriend was grimacing. He didn’t wait for her to explain. “So, what? You’re leaving?”
She bit her lip, trying to stay calm. “Doug, it’s my brother. He got hurt, and the nurse says he needs to be picked up.”
He sat back, folding his arms. “Maddie, I get it. He’s family; you can go.” He paused. “But you’re always running after him. You’re his sister, not his mother. Maybe it’s time he starts figuring things out on his own. He’s old enough, isn’t he?”
Maddie felt the sting of his words. “Doug, he’s thirteen. And he didn’t call me—the nurse did. He needs me right now.”
“I’m not disagreeing with you, but he’s not your responsibility, and we’re moving soon,” he stated before turning back to his half-eaten burger. “We’ll discuss it later,” he dismissed. “It’s not like I planned anything special anyway. But, you know, it’d be nice if you thought about me instead of Evan every once in a while.”
She felt her heart twist, but she swallowed the guilt. She had someplace to get to. She forced a smile, reaching out to touch his arm. “I’ll call you later, okay?”
Doug gave a short nod, still looking away. She took a step back, waiting to see if he’d apologize or even just say goodbye, but he didn’t. Finally, she turned and left, her stomach heavy with nerves.
The drive to the school felt longer than usual, worry creeping up her spine with each mile. By the time she walked into the nurse’s office, her thoughts were racing, her mind conjuring up every worst-case scenario. But there he was —Evan — sitting on a cot with his arms folded, staring at the floor, a healthy bruise blooming from his temple all the way down to his cheekbone. His right eye wasn’t spared either, and she could see the swelling before she even fully stepped into the room.
“Hey, kiddo,” she greeted, crossing the room to sit next to him.
His eyes were set on the linoleum floor. “Hey.”
She leaned in, examining his face. The purples and blues made his birthmark disappear entirely. “They told me you got hurt. What happened?”
Evan shifted uncomfortably, glancing away. “It’s nothing. Just, uh… football practice,” he mumbled. “Got hit during a tackle, that’s all.”
She studied him. She’d seen enough scrapes to know the difference between a sports injury and something else. She brushed a strand of hair from his forehead. “Evan, come on. I know you. This wasn’t from practice, was it?”
His figure slumped, his fingers fiddling with a loose thread on his jeans. He stayed silent for a moment, and she could see the battle going on in his head, the struggle between wanting to talk and wanting to keep it all inside. Finally, he spoke. “It’s not a big deal, Maddie. Can we go home now?”
She sighed, pulling back slightly. “We’re still talking this out. Just… maybe not here,” she replied, giving the nurse a glance.
“You can sign him out in the front,” Bowden said from her desk.
Maddie drove them home in silence, her hands gripping the wheel. The Jeep’s engine hummed, but her thoughts were loud—too loud. She wanted to talk to her brother, to make him open up, but she had a feeling he wasn’t going to make it easy. When they finally pulled into the driveway, he didn’t wait for her to turn off the engine before he jumped out of the car. He moved fast, darting up the front steps and into the house before Maddie could catch up.
“Definitely doesn't have a concussion. Evan,” she called after him. “Wait!”
He'd already disappeared inside.
She sat in the car for a moment, staring at the dashboard. She couldn’t understand why he was shutting her out. They’d always been close; he used to tell her everything. But recently, it was like he’d become someone else— withdrawn, evasive —especially with her. And now this. She couldn’t shake the feeling that she was losing him. Maddie sighed and got out of the Wrangler. The front door was still swinging open, and it was easy to follow the sound of his footsteps. She hesitated at the bottom of the stairs before following him up.
His bedroom door was closed, but it didn’t take a genius to figure out that he was inside. She knocked lightly, then pushed it open without waiting for a response.
"Evan?" she asked. A knot formed in her throat as she saw him lying in bed, facing the wall.
“Evan…” She paused, crossing the room toward him. "Talk to me."
His voice came out muffled, barely audible. "I’m tired, Maddie. I just want to sleep."
Maddie stood there for a moment, watching him. She could see the tension in his body, and she could feel the distance between them, even though she was right there.
"Evan," she said kindly, sitting on the edge of his bed, close but not touching him. "You can tell me what happened. You know that, right?"
He didn’t answer. He just lay there, not even shifting to look at her. She reached out to touch his back. Her fingers lingered for a moment longer than necessary, a silent plea for him to let her in.
“I’m not mad,” she whispered. “I just… I need to know what happened. Who did this to you?”
His breath hitched slightly, and for a moment, she thought he was going to confess everything. But instead, he curled even tighter into the fetal position, his body rigid.
“I just got into a fight. It’s no big deal,” he muttered.
Maddie’s heart sank. “Evan… who did you fight with?”
There was a long silence before he spoke again, his words barely audible. “Some guys from school. They’ve been… messing with me. Just… stuff. Doesn’t matter.”
Her brow furrowed, the pieces starting to come together, and none of them sitting right with her. She had known Evan to be tough, but this wasn’t just some random schoolyard scuffle.
“Messing with you?” she asked, her voice calm but laced with concern. “What kind of stuff?”
He flinched, pulling the blanket around himself as if trying to disappear beneath it. "It’s nothing," he repeated, a little sharper this time. "I’m fine, Maddie."
Her mind raced. She wasn’t stupid. She knew how kids could be at that age, especially the older ones. They had ways of targeting someone—teasing, bullying, picking on every little thing. But it was more than that. She could tell there was something deeper going on, something he wasn’t ready to talk about.
“Evan,” she said gently, “please don’t shut me out. I know something happened. I want to help.”
For a long moment, there was no response. Maddie could hear the faint sound of Evan’s breathing, but he still didn’t move, his face hidden from her view. The air in the room felt heavy with unsaid words.
Then, in a small, almost broken voice, he finally spoke. “I’m fine,” he insisted, but she could hear the edge of something akin to fear just under the surface. "I just… I don’t want you to worry about me."
Maddie took a deep breath.
“I’m not going anywhere,” she comforted, placing her hand on his shoulder, just enough to let him know she was there. “We’ll figure this out together, okay? You’re not alone in this.”
Evan shifted slightly, but didn’t turn towards her. His voice was small, almost tentative. "I’m not like the other guys," he muttered, barely above a whisper. "I don’t know… it just… it feels different."
She wanted to say something —anything— that would make him feel better, but she wasn’t sure what to say. She couldn’t understand fully, not yet, but something about his words made her pause.
Instead of pushing, she stayed quiet for a moment. She didn’t have to understand everything right now. She just needed to be there for him, even if it meant sitting in silence.
Eventually, after what felt like an eternity, she stood up. “I’m here if you want to talk, okay? Whenever you’re ready. You don’t have to do this alone.”
“Are you?” he cut back, and Maddie reeled back from surprise. “You’re with Doug all the time. You barely come around anymore.”
She froze. For a second, she wasn’t sure if she’d heard him correctly. Doug? Of all the things he could be upset about, why Doug?
“I’m an adult now, Ev,” she bites back. “And this isn’t about him. I’m just trying to help you.”
But he wasn’t listening. He shot up from his bed, the sheets tangled around him like he couldn’t get away from them fast enough. His face was flushed with anger, brows scrunched with frustration.
“Help me?” he snapped, tone dripping with disdain. “You want to help? Maybe start by not leaving me every time some guy calls you.” His fists clenched at his sides. “Maybe you can stop pretending Doug’s so perfect and just stay here for once!”
Maddie’s mouth hung open, taken aback by the sudden outburst. Her breath caught in her throat. She hadn’t expected this.
“Evan, I don’t—”
“Yeah, you don’t get it, Maddie!” he cut her off, his voice rising. “He doesn’t care about you! He’s always making you feel like crap, and you just let him, like it’s nothing.”
The words hit her like a slap. She tried to interject with something, with anything, but he was already pacing again, his steps rapid as he went on.
“I don’t like him, Maddie. I don’t like Doug. He treats you like you’re stupid or something, and you won’t stop making excuses for him. You’re too busy to notice that he doesn’t care, that he makes you feel small every time you’re around him, and you just keep going back to him like it’s fine!” He stopped moving and turned towards her. It hit her all at once, how his face was more desperation than rage. “You’re a good person, Mads, and he’s not. He’s–” he stopped suddenly, his bitterness giving way to something softer, something deeper. He collapsed down on the duvet, his fists still clenched, and his voice wavering as he added, “I just… I don’t know what to do anymore. How to make you see this. You left with him, and when came back you returned a soldier carrying half her weight.”
Maddie’s chest tightened, and all at once, the distance between them felt suffocating. She didn’t have an answer. She didn’t know how to fix this. But she couldn’t leave him like this, not now, not when he was so raw and vulnerable.
Slowly, she approached him. She sat down beside him on the mattress, vigilant not to crowd him too much. She didn’t touch him right away—she just let the silence settle between them.
“I don’t want to make you feel like you’re not important. You are important to me.” she disclosed. “But you don’t get to make my choices for me, Evan. You can disagree with them all you want, but at the end of the day, all my successes and mistakes are mine to achieve. Doug isn’t perfect, but neither am I. I am trying. I’m trying to figure out what’s right, for both of you, for us.”
He didn’t respond, but Maddie knew she’d done what she could. She gave him one last lingering look before leaving the room. The door clicked behind her, and she stood outside for a moment, her hand resting on the knob.
Something had shifted between them tonight. She just didn’t know what that meant yet.
–
“The point is to go as far away as you can and be happy.”
She didn’t know why she said it. Maybe to reassure him, to tell him it was okay to leave. Maybe she was just talking to herself. Illuminated only by the Jeep’s headlights, Evan looked so young— his face still painted by the motorcycle crash, his expression a mix of anguish and determination.
“Because that’s what you did?” he asked, sharper than she expected.
Maddie felt the words catch in her throat. Boston. That was what he was thinking about, she realized. When she’d left all those years ago. And look at me now.
“Yeah… yeah, exactly,” she managed, hoping it sounded convincing.
“Oh come on, Maddie.” His voice was laced with urgency, like he was throwing her a lifeline. “You don’t have to pretend with me. I know things aren’t alright with Doug.”
She tried to brush it off, tucking her hands into the sleeves of her sweater to hide the cast. “It’s like I said, it’s just… complicated. You know, most marriages are.”
Evan shook his head, pleading. “What if you came with me? No more Mom and Dad, no more Doug. Just you and me. You and me against the world. You and me in the world.”
Her breath hitched. She hugged the cardigan tighter, wincing at the ache in her wrist, hidden in the fabric. She pictured her mother’s face, and knew exactly what she’d say. “Mom would love it if I left him. It would be I told you so’s until the day she died.”
“That’s not a reason to stay miserable.”
She sighed, the sound wavering between exhaustion and surrender. “But… where would we even go?”
“Doesn’t matter. The point is to go.”
Her arm throbbed again, a brutal reminder of what she could leave behind if she actually did this. It was as though her own body was pleading with her to take this one chance.
“Oh,” she murmured, almost laughing. “I did just say that, didn’t I?”
Evan bobbed his head in affirmation.
There’s a beat of silence, and then she asked, almost to herself, “What would I tell Doug?”
“Don’t tell him anything,” he insisted. “You just leave him a note. He works the rest out when you don’t come home.”
It was tempting. Too tempting. She blinked, seeing flashes of a life she didn’t have, of freedom she hadn’t tasted in years. She could almost feel it—the lightness of escape.
“Yes.” The word slipped out, a whisper, but Evan heard it.
“Yes?” he echoed, his face alive with surprise and hope.
“Yes! Let’s get the hell out of here.”
–
She leaves him a note.
Maddie knows that, for the rest of her life, she will regret not going with him.
–
Evan sends postcards.
She collects each and every one of them.
–
It takes years. It takes years and her own blood spilled on Christmas wrapping paper, but she packs two suitcases and begins driving towards sunnier coasts.
–
She finds her brother again.
–
Maddie stands at the start of the makeshift aisle, feeling the gravity of the moment settle deep within her. The hum of conversation begins to fade as Chris leads his father toward the altar, the latter embracing his son before they part ways. From where she stands, Maddie can see Bobby quickly wipe away a tear. He had warned them beforehand that he might get weepy, but neither of the grooms had seemed to mind. There was never even a question about who was going to officiate. She can tell that Eddie’s expression is calm, but there’s more to it— a mix of pride, anticipation, and something else, something deeply personal that she knows only her brother could understand.
Beside her, Buck squeezes her hand. His grip is steady, but she can tell his heart is racing beneath the surface. She wants to tell him how happy she is for him, how he means to her, but she’s said it a thousand times before, and their cue is coming. Instead, she just nods toward the aisle.
“You ready?” she asks tenderly, her voice thick with emotion she hasn’t quite been able to shake.
Buck looks at her, and there's certainty in him that she’s never seen before. It’s as though this is exactly where he’s meant to be.
“You really have to ask that?” He replies in lieu. “I think it’s been a long time coming.”
A chuckle escapes her. This is it. This is right. She feels it in her bones.
They begin to walk down the aisle, step by step, Buck’s elbow comfortably linked with hers. The venue isn’t grand— just Bobby and Athena’s backyard, a space filled with love and memories— but it’s perfect in its simplicity. The scent of fresh flowers the hosts lovingly arranged fills the air, blending with the slight smell of summer grass. White chairs are arranged neatly in rows, fairy lights mystical above them, lending an ethereal glow to the intimate gathering. Everything melts into the background as Maddie keeps her focus on her brother. She can’t remember the last time they’d walked beside each other like this—not since they were both kids, when life had been a little less complicated, when the world seemed a little smaller.
They reach the altar and Maddie’s pulse rushes like a river in her ears. Eddie stands there, waiting. Christopher, the young man he raised so well, beams at them from ear to ear.
Buck hesitates for just a fraction of a second before stepping forward. Maddie watches the two men, noticing how his face softens even more as he draws closer to Eddie. His eyes shine with something like awe, something she recognizes from her own face when she looks at Chimney.
Before they can settle into their respective positions, Eddie steps forward, arms open. Maddie folds into him. It’s a moment of quiet connection, years of family and growth pouring into a single hug.
“Thank you,” he breathes into her hair. “For raising him to be the person he is today.”
She doesn’t know what to say, so she draws him in even closer, overwhelmed by the weight of his words, by witnessing her little brother commit to his person. She’s always been there for him, but in this moment, standing between him and Eddie, she feels just how much they’ve given to each other. How much they’ve fought for this love, for this life. It’s almost too big for this world.
They pull apart slowly, their eyes meeting for a split second, and Maddie finds everything she needs to— faith, adoration, and an unspoken understanding. Eddie’s look says it all: Trust me with him.
And Maddie’s heart swells, her reply silent but strong: I do.
With one last glance at Eddie, Maddie steps back, taking her place behind Buck as she watches her brother be with the man he loves. The vows are about to begin, and as they stand together, she knows that this moment has been worth every step they’ve taken to get here.