“Mom,” Parker complained, wringing out of her grip.
“Get your coat back on,” she told him.
“Now wait a minute.” Her dad rose from his crouch in front of the fireplace. Saylor leveled a glare at him and guided Parks back to the door.
“I know you blame me for what happened,” Greg said in her wake, scuffling behind to keep up. “But I swear, he would have joined the military anyway.”
She shook her head. “You don’t get it. Even now.”
The pain sang through her. She had a hard time letting go of things—she meant what she’d told Cole. She held on and couldn’t relinquish. Greg was right there that night, the night it had all happened.
“Come on back inside,” her dad said, leading Parker in. She didn’t have it in her to fight him, so she lingered on the front porch and stared up at the stars. Frigid air struck her at once, like it knew she was emotionally unarmed. She inhaled the cold chill, taking in the footprints that disturbed the glistening snow. A puff of air escaped every time she breathed. She held her eyes open, letting the cold singe out her angry tears.
“Saylor.” Her mom stepped out, closing the door behind her and standing on the step in her sweater and socks. She folded her arms across her chest in an attempt to keep warm. Her gaze was imploring. “Don’t be ridiculous. We wouldn’t let anything happen to Parker.”
Saylor blinked away more tears. “You knew he would be here.”
“I did. I invited him home. I was hoping you two could patch things up, and so is Greg.”
“Mom—he was there. He invited me to that party. He’s the one who introduced me to Caleb in the first place. It was Greg’s freaking drugs I tried to use after it...after it happened.”
Mom swallowed. “I know, sweetie. I know. It’s been hard on all of us. But you’ve made leaps and bounds of progress since then. You’re a different person than you were. It’s time to let it go.”
Saylor pressed her tongue to the roof of her mouth, stemming the burning at her eyes. Let it go. Her mom said that like it was easy.
“Greg won’t be doing drugs here,” her mother assured. “He’s clean now, Saylor, but just in case, I’ll make sure he’s not alone with the little guy. Just let him stay. He’s his uncle. He should meet him.”
Let it go. Saylor heard her therapist in her head, telling her the same thing. She’d heard it so many times it was stale.
“Despite it all, Greg is a good person, Saylor. He loves you.”
The words stung harder. She loved her brother, too, that was the problem. She was disappointed in what he’d become. She was disappointed he hadn’t been able to move on.
But wasn’t she doing the same thing now?
Let it go. Move on.
“Go on and have fun. I want to hear all about this contractor of yours when your date is over.” Her smile had its usual effect, soothing clear through Saylor. She was right—what did Saylor think was going to happen while they were all together here?
Throat tight, she nodded. Parker would be okay.
“Okay. Thanks, Mom.”
COLE’S OFFICE BUILDING lay just off of Pole Line, an immaculate, three story, brown-plated structure. Its exterior was sleek, modern, and reflected the snow falling softly as Saylor pulled into an open parking spot.
Canyon Ridge View, a title near the door read. She checked her lipstick and hair in the rearview mirror before stepping out to make a fresh footprint in the new layer of snow in the lot.
Rock salt scattered across the shiny sidewalk, a sure sign it’d been icy not too long ago. Thankfully, she made it to the door without slipping.
Music trilled overhead. A large potted plant claimed the corner of the classy entryway, and a desk offset a mirror that revealed part of Saylor’s blonde hair sticking up on one side. She hurried to correct it, smiling at the man and woman passing behind her.
A rush of cold air displaced the building’s heat as another couple entered. She beat past it to the next set of double doors, eager to find Cole.
People stood holding drinks and plates, laughing, talking, collecting in various corners of the large open area. The other floors were visible above, with people gathered along the balconies in similar fashion.
She scanned for a sign of Cole’s handsome face, his dark hair, and it was as though her heart saw him first. It tapped a jitter-twitch rhythm as her eyes caught up and captured him beside the black grand piano with its half-open lid. He wore a black dress shirt and slacks combo, topped off with a red and gold-striped tie. The stylish look and his casual stance accentuated his form, the line of his shoulders and slim hips. Her mouth went dry.
“You made it,” he said, giving her a flashing smile, weakening her all the more.
“You look amazing,” she told him, taking the red cup he offered. She could hardly peel her gaze away.
“You’re looking good yourself.”
In that moment, the room was nothing more than a comfortable coffee shop, a small space with no one else but Cole beside her, drinking her in with those soul-catching eyes.
“This building is beautiful,” she continued, taking a sip of the cider he offered.
“Finished it last year. I remember because we finished right before it snowed.”
“Is it hard to build in the snow?”
“Just colder,” he said with a shrug. “And wetter.”
“Too bad you can’t take the season off.” She kept her attention on the large, reflective windows on the building’s east side. The windows shot their images back, reminding Saylor of the bird that had hit Shelley’s window the other day.
“I suppose I could.” Cole offered her an arm. “But I doubt snow removal or light installation
