Page 43 of By the Time You Read This

Raisa checked her phone even though she didn’t need to. “No.”

When he didn’t say anything, she glanced at him. “You’re really worried, aren’t you?”

“Just as much as I’m worried about you,” Kilkenny said. It was reasonable, but Raisa didn’t feel like being reasonable. Not when it came to either of her sisters.

And anyway, you could say a lot of things about Delaney, but one thing you couldn’t was that she needed protection. Delaney Moore might look like a computer nerd, but she could handle her business. “Delaney always lands on her feet.”

“Well, if we’ve got the motive wrong, if it’s not a protégé, I think whoever killed Isabel is a pissed-off family member,” Kilkenny said. “Which means they would likely target either you or Delaney next. And honestly, a civilian is a lot easier to go after than an FBI agent.”

“You would like to think they’d go after the person who sat on the sidelines for twenty-five years, too,” Raisa muttered. “She doesn’t deserve to die, but it’s not like her hands are clean, either.”

“Raisa . . .”

“I don’t know why you refuse to hold her accountable for her actions,” she said, letting some of the long-held frustration seep into her voice.

“I do—”

“No, you don’t,” Raisa said, raw now. She hated this argument and she hated that Kilkenny had never budged on it. Every time Delaney was brought up, he acted like Raisa was in the wrong for icing her out. As if now that Isabel was in prison—dead, she was dead—it all shook out in the wash. “What? Is it because she’s a woman? You don’t think she knew what she was doing? Is it easier for you to make her into the victim?”

Kilkenny reeled back at that. “What?”

“I don’t know,” Raisa all but yelled. The morning was sleepy, only a few tourists wandering the streets now. Still, she realized she was makinga scene, so she took a deep breath. “Why do you care what I think about her? She’s not getting charged, and I have no power over what happens to her. Yet you can’t just let it go.”

Hurt flickered in and out of his expression, before he shut it down completely. He was such an expert at that.

“She’s done a lot more good than bad,” Kilkenny said after a moment of letting the silence sit between them, loaded with her anger. “You can blame maybe two of Isabel’s victims on her, and you could say the same about yourself.”

He held up a hand to cut off her indignant reply. “Which is to say, neither of you is responsible for Isabel’s delusions and obsessions. And as our anonymous tipster, Delaney helped scrub the dark web clean of a lot of men who would have gone on to do very bad things. In my eyes, her ledger is balanced.”

“I know that’s what you think—”

Kilkenny interrupted her again. “But that’s not why I care.” He shook his head, staring at her so intently she had to look away underneath the scrutiny. “I care because ... she’s your sister, and you could actually let yourself enjoy that. Maybe it wouldn’t be smooth sailing all the time. You’re both prickly as hell. But you would have someone in your corner. Always.”

“I have you in my corner,” Raisa said, almost desperate for the validation.

“You need more than just me,” Kilkenny said.

At some point in the aftermath of learning she was related to Isabel, Raisa had unearthed a letter from her adoptive parents, the ones she’d thought were her birth parents most of her life. Her mother, Pia, had wished that she would find her sisters once again and recognize them ashers. As family.

She supposed that was what Kilkenny wanted for her as well.

Raisa just didn’t understand how he looked at Delaney’s past and thought Raisa would want someone like that in her corner.

She’d rather be by herself, but the amazing thing was she no longer had to be.

What she didn’t need was Kilkenny lecturing her about her life. Maybe he looked at it as sad, but he didn’t exactly have a full stable of friends, either. As much as he liked to pretend he was in a better place than she was, they’d recognized the loneliness ineach other.

“Right now, I need another coffee,” she said even though she had barely touched her first cup. What she really needed was space. For the first time in a long time, that included from Kilkenny.

He sighed and reached for her, but she danced back a few steps.

A car started in the distance, and he turned. She used the opportunity to dash across the street.

When she looked back, his arm was still outstretched, his expression some complicated mix of anger and grief and irritation.

Join the club,she thought.

“Raisa,” he said, stepping off the curb.

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