Page 43 of The Scout

Will.

I squeezed my eyes shut against the burn of fresh tears, but they spilled over anyway, hot, relentless, merciless.

He was the only one left. The only family I had that mattered.

My parents were long gone. First my mother—taken in a split second by a car that ran a red light, her absence leaving a wound that never truly healed. Then my father—his heart giving out far too soon, leaving Will and me orphaned when we had barely figured out how to be adults.

Now him? My brother?

No.

No, I couldn’t think like that.

I gasped against the sob rising in my throat, shoving the thought away with force, but it clawed back to the surface, dragging its nails down my sanity.

What if he was gone? What if I never saw him again?

Aunt Maude would be devastated, but she was old and distant, too preoccupied with her garden and the ghosts of the past to offer any real comfort. The cousins we had were barely more than names on Christmas cards, faces in old photo albums my father had once flipped through with a nostalgic sigh.

But Will? He was the only real constant in my life.

I couldn’t lose him. I wouldn’t.

My legs burned as I reached Waterfront Park, my body trembling with exhaustion, but I didn’t stop moving. The soft scent of salt thickened in the air, the harbor stretching out before me, dark and endless beneath the glow of the moon. I made my way toward the wooden pier, toward the swings that lined the edge, my movements finally slowing, my chest heaving as I collapsed onto one.

The wooden slats were cool beneath my thighs, the steady creak of the swing beneath me grounding in a way nothing else was. I pushed off gently, the motion soothing, rhythmic, rocking me back and forth as my vision blurred against the silver shimmer of the water.

Was he out there somewhere? In some strange land, surrounded by unfamiliar faces? Was he cold? Was he hungry? Was he hurt?

Or worse?—

I swallowed hard, gripping the arms of the swing so tightly my knuckles ached.

I couldn’t let my mind go there.

I stared out at the water, my breath still unsteady, my heart still racing, trying to grasp onto something—anything—that could pull me back from the edge.

But all I could think about was Will.

The way he used to chase me through the yard when we were kids, laughing as he caught me and spun me around until we both collapsed in the grass, breathless and happy. The way he’d taught me how to drive in an empty parking lot when I was sixteen, patient even when I nearly ran into a lamppost. The way he had held me after Dad died, strong and steady, promising me that no matter what happened, we still had each other.

But now? Now I didn’t even know where he was. How could life be so cruel?

I squeezed my eyes shut, my breath catching on a sob as I rocked faster, the movement not enough, not grounding me, not filling the hollow space in my chest that was growing larger by the second.

I needed to find my brother. I needed to bring him home. I needed him to be okay.

Because if he wasn’t?—

If Will Harper was truly gone?—

Then I didn’t know who I was anymore.

“Isabel?” a deep voice called from a short distance away. I turned, confused. “There you are.”

Marcus. He was alone, thank God. I wasn’t ready to face Ryker.

“My friends call me Izzy,” I managed.

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