Blair’s expression grew serious as she opened the can of worms I could tell had lingered under the surface since she showed up at the hospital.

“This was just a mugging, right?”

I struggled to keep my tone and expression neutral. “What do you mean?”

“Tell me that you aren’t in any danger. That this was just something random that could have happened to anyone.”

I didn’t want to lie to her, but I didn’t know how to tell her the truth. We were sisters, but in a lot of ways, our personalities couldn’t have been more different. She’d never understood my desire to see our father’s career destroyed. I’d told her my suspicions about his involvement with Matt’s death, but I’d tried to shield her from the details of it. She might have been two years older, but that didn’t mean I still didn’t feel a need to protect her, to make sure she was safe. This wasn’t her battle to fight, and she’d already been caught in the crosshairs.

“I’m okay.”

“Getting stabbed in the street isn’t okay. Are you still involved with the stuff with Matt’s death?”

I couldn’t lie to her. Not when I was trying to regain her trust.

“Don’t ask me questions you don’t want the answers to.”

Anger flared in her eyes. “This wasn’t an accident, was it?”

I reached out and squeezed her hand, holding her gaze.

“I can’t talk about it, okay? I’m sorry. I don’t want to lie to you, but I can’t tell you everything. And honestly it’s better that you don’t know. I’m sorry that you had to come down here for this, and I’m sorry that you were worried. If you don’t want anything to do with me, I understand.” My chest tightened. “I’m sorry I hurt you before. You were right—I was so consumed with what happened to Matt, so angry, that I didn’t think about who I hurt. I promise I won’t ever do something like that again. But this is a part of me that I just can’t share with you.”

“God, Kate.”

“If it makes you feel better, I have someone helping me with this. I’m not alone.”

“Really? Where were they when you were getting stabbed?”

“It’s complicated.”

“What about getting the authorities involved? The police?”

“I’ve thought about it, but you have to trust me. There are reasons why I really can’t get the police involved. I have to be smart about this. You know just as well as I do that power and money go a long way in this town.”

“Do you honestly think our father is behind this?” she asked.

“I don’t know.”

“I can’t— I feel like we’re in a bad play or something. I mean, yeah, part of me can see him doing something like this, and at the same time, I just can’t believe he’d try to have his own daughter killed.” She shook her head. “It was hard to forgive them for the way they treated Jackie—for the fact that he completely shirked his responsibility toward her, but this is something else entirely. How can I ever look at them again? Ever speak to them again? Do you think Mom knows?”

“I don’t know.”

“This is insane.”

“Yeah, it is.”

I didn’t know what else to say. Didn’t know how this had become our lives. But I wanted Blair as far from my investigation as possible.

“I’m handling it. Promise me you’ll stay out of it. I’m serious, Blair. I know you’re my big sister, but I can’t be worried about this affecting you, too. This is my fight. Let me fight it.”

“If you need anything—”

“I know.”

A moment passed between us that thanks to twenty-two years of history, needed no words. On one hand, it felt like a continuation of our relationship, and on the other, like we were growing up and changing, the roles of “big sister” and “little sister” evolving as our lives diverged.

We both turned at the sound of Gray’s voice as he returned from picking up dinner, his presence a stark reminder that we were both developing our own lives, moving on from the family we’d been born to for the ones we’d created.

“I come bearing Chinese,” he called out, holding up a paper bag. His gaze drifted from my face to Blair’s. “Is everything okay?”

Blair forced a smile, squeezing my hand before releasing me and rising to kiss his cheek. “Yeah, it is. Is there any orange chicken in there?”

I let them fuss over me, my latest round of pain meds dulling my senses as Blair set out everyone’s food, the sound of their chatter filling the gnawing space inside me that worried about Matt, about losing the papers, about the massive shitstorm I’d become mired in. For a moment, life felt normal. We sat in my bedroom eating dinner until the pain meds set in and I fell asleep.

Matt

I slipped into Kate’s apartment, mentally prioritizing a talk about the quality of her locks and the merits of an alarm system. After today’s attack on the street, I was more convinced that whoever was after her wanted the information she held rather than to kill her. If they’d wanted to take her life, they could have. Today had been about sending a message and trying to scare her away from whatever she’d gotten herself into.

I prayed it had worked.

I’d never forget the image of watching her body crumple to the ground, her face pale, her hand clutched to her side. Would never forget holding her in my arms, feeling her blood spill out onto my palms, coating my skin. I’d thought I’d experienced fear, but nothing compared to the terror that had racked my body when I’d thought Kate was in danger—in that moment that had felt like an eternity when I’d feared I’d lost her completely.

It had gone so wrong from the start, and I felt like we were playing defense against an opponent that had us outgunned and outmanned at every turn. I’d had my eyes on her, trying to keep a reasonable distance behind her. I’d seen her in the crowd, seen her falter, and had just figured she’d tripped, hadn’t realized what had happened until it was too late. Whoever they’d hired had been a pro and he’d definitely been better than me.

I’d fucked up. And she’d bled for it.

I walked back to her bedroom, the apartment dark, the D.C. street sounds lingering in the background. I froze when I crossed over the threshold, moonlight spilling through her window.

Fuck me.

She lay on her back, her body sprawled out over the covers. She was a tiny thing, just a few inches over five feet, and yet she still slept like I remembered. As though the bed, like life, was hers for the taking. How many nights had I woken to find her legs entangled with mine, her arm thrown over my chest, her small frame pushing me over to the corner?

I wished I could go back to those moments, wished I could freeze them, hoard them, savor them. I’d thought I’d known how good I’d had it back then, but I hadn’t had a fucking clue. I’d been so young, so focused on a future that had seemed bright—a job I loved, a girl who was my whole world—that I’d never considered that with one explosion of gunfire, it could all be taken away from me. Never imagined I would go years without touching her, holding her. Her love had been the only sure thing in my life, and without it I’d come unmoored.

I sank down in the chair opposite her bed, my gaze running over her body. Her blonde hair was the same length it had always been, just at her shoulders, the ends curling slightly. Her face was the same as I’d remembered, her heart-shaped mouth parted. She wore a different pair of shorts and a tank top to sleep in than the night before, showing off her lean body made strong by a lifetime of playing sports, and the tight curves I’d run my hands over so many times that I knew each dip and peak, each smooth expanse of skin.

A knot formed in my throat, the perfect counterpoint to the boulder lodged in my gut.

This felt like déjà vu, like we’d gone back in time and were just two people in love. It was dangerous. Dangerous to forget all the reasons why I wasn’t good for her. Dangerous to forget how high the stakes really were. My gaze drifted to the lump on her side underneath her tank top, the spot where someone had stuck a knife inside her, to the bandage that was there because once again I’d failed her, and that was enough to remind me of all the reasons why I needed to stay the hell away from her.