Page 48 of All My Broken Dreams

Casey was helpful and kind, and he did one thing that she really needed help with–he introduced her to the two girls who were at the Fuil Bratach meeting that Robbie had crashed. They were called Wulven and Raven, but their real names were Penelope and Millicent.

They showed up one afternoon to take her shopping for the clothes she needed to wear to the funeral. Her brain wasn’t working at all, to the point that she didn’t even feel anxious when she went outside. All she felt these days was numb.

There were going to be two funerals–one in Scotland for his friends and family and one in New York. They insisted on shopping for both. Penelope was cooler with her than Millicent but Robbie was too shell-shocked to care.

Sarah didn’t want to know anything about the Scottish funeral even though it was her family who were going to be in attendance. She didn’t want to know anything about Alastair Manderville either.

“I have an appointment with the solicitor after the funeral,” Robbie told her. “It’s about Harry’s trust fund. Did you know there was a trust fund?”

Sarah had declined to comment, apparently resolved to take yet another secret to her grave rather than sharing it with her daughter. The only thing her mother would comment on was how bitterly disappointed she was in Robbie’s failure to bring her brother home.

“If you had kept looking for him, refusing to give an inch instead of letting yourself be distracted, you might have found Harry in time. He shouldn’t have been alone in that place. What was he doing there anyway? Did you even bother to find out? Why was he on an island? Has anyone asked these questions? I need answers, Rowena. You swore to me that you could do this–I trusted you! I will never forgive myself for that. You should have found him. You should have brought him home.”

The words stung, cut her to the bone because everything her mother said was true. The call broke her. She couldn’t stop crying. Everytime she thought she had pulled herself together, she’d break down again.

Deacon rapped on her door. “Robbie?”

She wiped her eyes but didn’t answer.

“I can hear you crying in there. Come on, Robbie. Let me in.”

She unlocked the door. He took one look at her and she crumpled into his arms.

“Where have you been?” she wailed. Her nose was running. “I needed you and you just abandoned me. You said you’d be here if I needed you and now I don’t know if I can trust you. I thought we were–I thought we were friends at least. You don’t want to spend time with me anymore, I get it, but I thought we were friends.”

She was bawling and wiping her eyes while he rocked her, holding her tight against his chest.

“We are friends. I’ve had a lot of shifts to cover this month. Everyone wants time off for Christmas shopping and shit. I’m the only custodian with no family. It falls on me to cover for the guys with kids. But that’s not why you’re crying. What’s going on?”

“My mother blames me for Harry’s death.”

He didn’t say anything, which she appreciated.

“She’s right.” Robbie pressed a balled up tissue against her eyes.

“She’s not right. You know she’s not. She’s angry and hurt. She’s in pain and lashing out. You don’t deserve to be the target. You couldn’t have saved Harry.”

“If I kept looking as soon as I got here, I might have found him. I should have pushed for answers when I arrived. Instead, I–”

“You can say it. Instead of pushing for answers, you were with me.”

“I was a coward.”

“You were recovering from a dislocated shoulder after being attacked. Harry would be bloody proud of you. Anyway, your mom is wrong. He was dead before your plane touched down at Edinburgh Airport.”

“What?” She sat up. “Who told you that? I was not told this.”

“My uncle was able to find out as near as possible the date of the accident. It happened the day before you arrived. There were witnesses who saw Harry on the Isle of Arran hours before his death. His body wasn’t found until much later. It’s an isolated place, designed for solitude and reflection. It’s not frequented by the locals.”

“What about the other body? The man who was killed?”

“His injuries are in line with a guy who took a tumble down the stairs. Whether Harry was responsible for that, we don’t know. Alastair is not going to allow him to be accused without proof, but it is possible they fought and the man took a fall over the railing of the balcony to the stone floor. It’s a hell of a drop. It is the only explanation we have for why Harry jumped.”

“That’s what the investigator said.” She sighed and leaned her head against Deacon’s shoulder. “I just needed to hear it from a person I trusted. I missed you.”

“I missed you too.”

“How are the cats doing?”

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