Page 125 of Seeking Shadows

Abby grins at me, her enthusiasm catching me off guard. I regret not bringing Mia—it would’ve been easier with her here.

I hug Abby and then study her with amused suspicion. “You were spying on me at the door, weren’t you?”

She makes a face that’s somewhere between indignation and holding in a fart, then sighs in defeat. “I was. You wouldn’t get out of the car, and I was worried you’d change your mind.”

Guilt tugs at my chest. I shouldn’t have let her worry like that.

Inside, Liam is utterly focused on mixing paints, his little hands and face already smeared with colors that won’t fully wash off until his next bath.

He looks so full of life, so comfortable here. It’s strange to think that Kyle has a son. That I have a nephew.

I lean back, taking in the house. The familiar scent of wood, dirt, and gasoline lingers in the air, as if nothing has changed. But everything feels different, maybe because I’m different.

My thoughts drift to someone else who should be here. I frown.

“What about Taylor?”

Kyle’s expression shifts instantly. He doesn’t respond right away, just picks up a cloth and slowly wipes the ink from his fingers, his movements deliberate. Finally, he says, “She hasn’t been around much lately.”

My eyebrow arches. Something about his tone feels off, but my mind instinctively searches for the simplest explanation.

“She’s still mad at me, isn’t she?”

Kyle just watches me. He doesn’t confirm or deny it—he doesn’t need to.

That’s the problem with seeing my brother again after so long. He’s always been able to read me before I even speak.

I glance out at the lawn, a knot tightening in my chest. I don’t know what I expected coming back. I’ve spent years trying to put distance between myself and all of this.

But now that I’m here, I realize nothing ever truly disappears.

But people... people change.

And maybe I’m afraid I’ve lost my connection to them forever.

I swallow hard, trying to keep that feeling at bay. “Makes sense,” I mutter. “I haven’t been around much lately either.”

Kyle studies me for a moment before sighing. “Yeah.”

Something about the way he says it pulls at me, like I’m being yanked back to a place that once felt like home but now feels distant. Still, part of me wants to reach for it.

Liam, oblivious to any tension, taps his paintbrush against the wood and makes a satisfied sound, admiring his work.

He looks between me and Kyle, his wide eyes searching, as if trying to understand.

Kyle breaks the silence. “Are you mad at me? Is that why you left?”

“No. It wasn’t about you and Tay... it was about—”

“Amber.”

“Yes.”

“She hurt us all.”

“Not you. That would require you to actually care enough to be hurt.”

Kyle smirks. “I care, okay.” Then, more seriously, “I’ve always been good at compartmentalizing. I had things to do, so wallowing like she did would’ve been a waste of time. Just another cycle.”

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