Page 105 of The Switch: A Friends To Lovers Romance

I step closer, unwilling to interrupt them but desperate to find my brother’s room. As I draw near, I realize they’re standing right in front of Harry’s door.

My stomach churns. Who are these people? Harry’s friends?

The little girl notices me first. Her grey eyes shake me to my core. They look like the marbles Harry and I used to fight over when we were younger. She steps away from the woman—I assume her mother—and focuses on me.

I look away, my hand going for the door to Harry’s room.

“What are you doing?” she snaps.

I glance behind me. Rake my gaze from the bottom of her rhinestone-studded shoes to the crown of her braided hair. She can’t be more than nine years old, but she’s got enough attitude to stretch around the world and back.

“Me?” I poke a finger in my chest.

“That’s my dad’s room. You can’t go in there.”

My gaze slips to the woman beside her. She’s got cocoa-colored skin. Big brown eyes. Bee-stung lips. The kind that look bought. Or maybe they’re natural. It would be easy to find out…

The little girl’s statement registers. My jaw falls. “Your dad?”

She nods sharply.

I glance at the door on the other side of the hall. Maybe I have the wrong room. “Sorry.” I start to walk away and then turn back because I feel compelled to say, “My name is Benjamin Duncan. I’m looking for my brother.”

“Duncan?” A little bit of her defensiveness leaks away and she blinks. “That’s my last name too.”

The older woman straightens. Her brown eyes scan my face with such intensity I start to squirm. “I’m Logan, Reece’s friend.” She swings the little girl’s hand to indicate who she’s referring to. “I didn’t know Harry had a brother.”

“I didn’t know Harry had a daughter.” The words pour out of my mouth without thought. They feel foreign as they hang in the air.

“That man looks like him,” Reece says to Logan. Then she turns to me, those grey eyes flashing. “You look like my daddy.”

The words are quiet, but we’re all so confused and out-of-sorts that it’s easy to hear.

The door to my brother’s room opens and an elderly woman steps out. She’s got long grey hair with streaks of black. Lines carve a map around her eyes and mouth. Despite her age, or maybe because of it, she seems regal. Queenly.

“Ben?” she says.

“Lydia,” Logan’s brown gaze darts between the two of us, “do you know this man?”

“He’s Harry’s brother.” Lydia swipes at a tear that courses down her paper thin cheek. “Mr. Duncan, would you like to say your goodbyes?”

Reece sobs.

Logan bends to comfort her. “It’s okay.”

I nod although what I want to do is shake my head and beg her to tell me that my brother isn’t dead. Instead, she takes me into the hospital room where his body lies. Still. Pale. Unmoving.

The moment my gaze lands on Harry, my knees go weak and I stumble. There’s no one to catch me. I end up slamming my hand against the edge of his cot to stable myself. My vision goes blurry.

I grab ahold of Harry’s hands and bawl my eyes out. “Wake up, man.”

My pleas fall on deaf ears. He’s gone.

My grief overwhelms me. I shed a storm of tears. Sobs wrack my body, producing deep convulses. My face crumples, falling into itself. I look a mess, but I wouldn’t be able to hold myself back even if I had an audience.

My brother will never smile at me again. Or scold me about settling down. Or laugh sheepishly when I argue he has to take his own advice and find a girlfriend first.

He’ll never challenge me to go my own path instead of the one Dad thrust me on. Never tease me about my drawings or my obsession with webtoons. Never lecture me on becoming better. Doing better.

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