Mark and Matthew came in together an hour later.

We were watching an old movie, and we were actually enjoying it, but I switched it off to be polite. As they stood together at the foot of the bed, I noticed that Mark and Matthew were much more alike in looks than Tolliver and his dad were. The shorter, thicker build, the square faces… All three men had the same coloring, but other than that, Tolliver definitely looked more like his mom. I’d only seen pictures of the first Mrs. Lang, but she’d had Tolliver’s much narrower face and thinner build.

I wondered if they wanted me to leave.

Tolliver didn’t give me any signal one way or the other, and though I half expected Matthew to tell me he wanted to talk to his sons alone, he didn’t say a word about it, so I stayed.

After the usual inquiries into Tolliver’s recovery and when he’d get out of the hospital, Mark said, “I wondered if you’d like to come back to stay with me, at my house, I mean. While you get better.”

“Your house,” Tolliver said, as if he’d never heard of such a thing. We’d been to Mark’s house exactly once. He’d had us over to dinner, and he’d ordered out. It was an absolutely standard three-bedroom ranch with a fenced-in backyard.

“Yeah, why not? Since you and Harper are…” Here he made a kind of indeterminate gesture, meant to indicate that we were sleeping together. “That means you can share a bed, so there’ll be room.”

“So, Dad’s staying in the other room now?” Tolliver didn’t look at his father as he spoke to Mark. He’d sure picked up on that little indicator.

“Yes, he is,” Mark said. “It just made sense, since his job doesn’t pay a lot, and the bedroom was empty.”

“I already got us a suite at a hotel,” I said. I made sure my voice was both quiet and neutral. I didn’t want to make this a confrontation.

But it looked as though I wasn’t going to get my wish.

“Listen,” Mark said, flushing up as he did when he was angry, “you butt out, Harper. This is my brother, and I get to ask him to stay with me. It’s his call. We’re family.”

Not only was I angry now, too, I was hurt. I didn’t care if I ever got called a member of Matthew’s family, but Mark and I had shared a lot of woe together. I thought we kids had been our own family. I could feel my own face reddening.

“Mark,” Tolliver said sharply, “Harper is my family. She’s been my family for years now. Yours, too. I know you remember how we had to stick together.”

Mark looked down at the floor, conflict making his face really distressing to watch.

“It’s okay, Mark,” Matthew said. “I understand what they’re saying. You-all did have to band together. Laurel and I weren’t exactly up to making a family work. We were together, but we weren’t a real family. Tolliver’s right.”

Overkill, I thought.

“Dad,” Mark mumbled, like he was seventeen again. “You tried to keep us together.”

“I did,” Matthew said. “But my addictions got in the way.”

I tried very hard not to roll my eyes. Drama 101. Tolliver was watching Matthew confess-yet again-and his face was unreadable. There were still times when I couldn’t tell what Tolliver was thinking, and right now was definitely one of those times. He might be softening toward his father, or he might be planning how to kill him. At the moment, I would vote for the killing.

“Please, Tolliver, give me a chance to get to know you again,” Matthew pleaded.

There was a long silence. Mark said, “Tol, you remember when Gracie got so sick? You remember, Dad took her to the hospital? And the doctors gave her antibiotics and she came home so much better?”

I’d forgotten about that. It had been a long time ago. Gracie had been very little, maybe only four months old. How old had I been? Fifteen? It had been hugely embarrassing to have a baby sister, I remembered, because that was plain evidence that my mother and her husband were actually having sex.

It’s amazing what can embarrass you at fifteen.

I knew something about babies by then, because we’d already had the care of Mariella. My mother had been a little better when our first half sister was born, though, and she’d done at least some of the everyday care. We’d been able to leave Mariella with her during the school day, for example. That was out of the question when Gracie was born, underweight and sickly. Why they didn’t take Gracie away from Mom in the hospital, I don’t know. We had almost prayed that someone would take the baby or that Mom would come to her senses and give Gracie up for adoption.

Neither of those things had come to pass. So Cameron and I had taken turns babysitting for other families, and the boys had earned money, and Matthew had chipped in, too. We’d been able to take the girls to day care while we were out of the house.

Then Gracie, who’d always had trouble with her breathing, had gotten really bad. I couldn’t remember much about it, except being scared. We’d been so impressed that Matthew had taken her to the hospital.

“Are you saying I should make friends with Dad because one time, one time, he acted like a real father?” Tolliver said, and I let myself exhale. He wasn’t fooled.

“Oh, Tolliver.” Matthew shook his head, grief written in big letters on his face. “I’m trying to stay straight, son. Don’t harden your heart against me.”

It took everything I had not to speak, but I was proud that I could hold my tongue. For a second, my heart went to my throat, because I thought I detected a weakening in Tolliver’s face. “Goodbye, Mark. Dad. Thanks for coming by,” he said, and I breathed out a silent sigh of relief.

The two visitors looked at each other, then at me. They obviously wanted me to leave the room, but I wasn’t going to do it. After a moment, they could tell I was staying put.

Matthew said, “If you need our help transferring Tolliver to the hotel, just call Mark’s number and leave a message, Harper. We’ll be glad to do whatever we can.”

I nodded.

Mark said, “I’m sorry we can’t all…” His voice trailed off miserably. “Jeez, I wish you two could forgive and forget.”

I found this incredible. I had no response to make to my stepbrother, but I had something to say to my stepfather. “I learned some of the basic lessons of my life under your neglect, Matthew. I don’t hate you, but I’m sure not going to forget. That would be under the category of really, really stupid.”

Matthew looked directly at me, and for a second I saw his undisguised dislike before he pulled the repentant mask back over his true face.

“I’m sorry you feel that way, Harper,” he said smoothly. “Son, you’ll be in my prayers.”

Tolliver looked at him silently. Then his father and his brother turned and left the room.

“He hates me,” I said.

“I’m not so sure he feels any different about me,” Tolliver said. “If I fall down three flights of stairs, don’t call them. I love Mark and he’s my brother, but he’s back under Dad’s thumb, and I don’t trust him at all.”