Chapter 7: Dane Can't Say It

"No," I said.

It was the only word I could find.

"Lexi."

"No. You don't get to ask me that."

"I'm not asking you to like it," Dane said. "I'm asking you to go back to him until I can get this fixed."

"Fixed."

"Until I can."

"He broke my head open on a cabinet, Dane."

My brother flinched.

For a moment he looked so much like our father that I nearly reached for him.

"I didn't know," he said.

"You didn't ask."

"I thought you were happy."

"You thought?"

My voice cracked in the middle.

"You didn't call me once. Not for my birthday, not for Mom's grave."

I made myself keep going.

"I sent you messages for a year. I called the Ridge landline."

"I never got any messages."

"Then who did?"

He opened his mouth.

I watched him decide something terrible, and I watched him shut it again.

"I gave my word," he said. "A long time ago. I can't say more than that."

"To who?"

He turned and walked back toward the door, and I grabbed his sleeve.

He stopped.

He did not pull away, but he did not turn around.

"Please don't make me go back," I said. "I'm asking you. I have never asked you for anything."

His shoulders shook once.

Then he took my hand off his sleeve, very gently, and set it back on the rail.

"I'm sorry," he said, and he went in.

I stood on the porch, shaking.

A minute later the door opened again.

Talon came out, took one look at my face, and went back in without a word.

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