Page 84 of Lillian

I frown and glance at the door, where no sound has come from.

Becca rolls her eyes. “You’re not fooling anyone. I know you’re eavesdropping.”

“Am not,” comes a muted voice from the other side of the door before it swings open, and Lincoln leans against the frame, arms folded across his chest. “Okay, fine. I was. Sue me.”

Genuine happiness bubbles in me as I feel the brotherly love emanating off Lincoln as he stares at his sister. Brotherly loveand relief. That she is here maybe and not stuck under their parents’ thumb anymore.

This moment would be perfect if only Grace were here with us. Michael messaged to say he had filed the appeal, but there hasn’t been another message from him since. Not that I expect one.

That’s how the law works,he had said to me once during a meeting.Slow.

“Well? Give me your two cents then.” Becca waves a hand as if to say,let’s go,and I focus back on the two people thatarehere with me.

“Whatever you want to do, I’ll support you,” is all he says, and Becca purses her lips like she’s trying to read some deeper meaning on his face. I look too at her perusal, but all I see is relaxed, genuine features. But then his face scrunches up as he sniffs the air. “It smells like–”

“An addict's wet dream?” Becca and I both say together and laugh as we side-eye the other.

Lincoln smiles warmly between the two of us but says, “Ass. I was going to say it smells like ass. But sure. That, too, I guess.”

He looks at us like we’re crazy, turns to leave the room, and hollers as he goes. “I’m ordering dinner. If you don’t tell me what you want, you’re getting leftovers because I’m not sharing mine.”

As if he thinks that would scare me. I love leftovers. That is, until I glance at the look of horror on Becca’s face and start to worry.

“He made chicken alfredo last night but didn’t have any chicken so he used a pre-seasoned barbecue loin. It’s awful,” she whispers to me, shivering in disgust.

We stare at each other for maybe ten seconds before we hear Lincoln greet someone on the phone, and we rush to the kitchen to give him our order.

The restof the night went by fast. The Thai food was delivered, and Becca and I managed to convince Lincoln to throw out the leftovers without hurting his feelings. Becca had pulled the puppy dog eyes, and I pretended that I haven’t been able to eat any pork since Grace threw it up on me a year ago.

Which never happened, but the minute Grace’s name was mentioned, he panicked and threw it out. Becca and I had low-fived under the island. I only felt marginally bad at manipulating him and using Grace to do it, but there’s no way I could pretend to eat that dish.

I got a glimpse of it as he threw it away and understood immediately why Becca had gone green at the thought.

After dinner, Lincoln and I watched a movie as Becca went back to painting, telling us goodnight on the way. It was a quiet, peaceful night, and after Lincoln showed me where he put all my things from the suitcase, I fell asleep in his arms.

We stayed in the same position, holding each other, until he had to get up and get ready for work.

That was about four hours ago, and it’s coming up on lunch now. Becca left a little over an hour ago, saying she wanted to go on a walk. So it’s just me in the quiet apartment.

I’m keeping busy with work. I started on a request for a small logo design an indie author sent me to get back into the swing of things. Next in my queue are some bigger, complete company redesigns that are going to take a lot from me.

Just as I’m finishing up the first order and thinking about what to make or order for lunch, my phone rings from down the hall. It’s been plugged into the charger since I fell asleep last night before charging it.

Exhaustion weighs me down, though, and I take several moments to decide whether I want to get up and answer it at all. While I’m deciding, the phone stops ringing, making my mind up for me.

Only for it to start back up again.

Ugh.Whoever is calling must be reaching out for an important reason. Maybe it’s Kim calling about Nicky. Or Jim calling to tell me Kim has gone into labor. At that thought, I jump out of my seat and rush down the hall.

The bedroom is semi-dark, and I see my phone lit up, lying on my pillow. It goes dark just as I get in the room.

Shit.

Unplugging it, I glance at the screen and see the missed calls aren’t from Kim or Jim or even Lincoln.

They’re from Yasmine.

Seeing her name makes my heart drop into my stomach, my gut telling me something is wrong with Grace. Pulse racing, I unlock my phone and scroll until I get to her name, prepared to call her back.

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