Chapter 8
My sister led Daisy into my house, the two women chatting as if they’d known each other far longer than the three minutes we’d been standing on my porch. Meanwhile, I stood there trying to reconcile the last thirty minutes of my life, because what the fuck.
Junie slipped her hand into mine and looked up with a grin I’d wanted to see so damn bad only an hour ago. It loosened something tight in my chest, even as everything else threatened to strangle me.
Once we stepped inside, I pointed to the bathroom off the entryway. “Go wash your hands for me.”
She nodded, then skipped down the hall. Her little footsteps echoed against the walls as I walked toward the kitchen.
Daisy and Emmy were already sitting at the table side by side. Emmy had her hand over Daisy’s, leaning in, her voice warm and easy as Daisy told her about driving through the night to get here. My sister had that effect on people—she made them feel at home before their shoes were even off.
“Where’s your stuff?” I asked, and both women turned toward me.
From the way Emmy’s mouth pressed into a flat line, I could tell I’d bulldozed straight past tact.
But tact wasn’t in my wheelhouse right now.
Sorry your sister died. I’ve thought about you for three years, never regretting anything more than walking away.
Please don’t take my kid away from me, didn’t fit into any conversation starter I knew.
Daisy tucked a piece of pale hair behind her ear. “Oh. Just one bag. I can unload it at Violet’s house later when I take Junie home.”
A low grunt rumbled out of my chest. “She’s staying here.”
“Ty.” Emmy’s voice was all warning, carrying a whole world of meaning behind just my name. Like that was all she needed to put me back in line. Normally, it would have worked. But this was Junie we were talking about, and her warning barely made a dent.
Sure, Daisy and I had shared our deepest, darkest secrets with each other three years ago. From those few hours together, I probably understood her better than most people. But I didn’t know her.
Even more so, this was Junie we were talking about, and fear of the unknown had a chokehold on me. Gut-wrenching terror that tomorrow, a judge would say that little girl didn’t belong with me, and they’d both disappear forever, just like Daisy had when she’d gotten on that elevator.
I leaned my hands against the counter, grounding myself on the cool marble. “The caseworker said she’s staying here with me until the hearing,” I said, quieter now but still firm.
Daisy opened her mouth to argue, and I held up a hand.
“I’m not kicking you out,” I said. “But the court granted me temporary custody. She’s my responsibility. If you want us to go down to Violet’s house, fine. But I’m staying with her until I’m told otherwise.”
Daisy’s brows lifted, sharp against the mess of pale hair framing her face. She leaned back in her chair, arms crossed over her chest. “Is this how it’s going to be? You’re going to fight me on this in court tomorrow?”
“I’m going to do what’s best for Junie,” I said, mirroring her posture and crossing my arms. “And right now, I still think that’s me.”
For a moment, something flared between us, her exhaustion meeting my fear right in the middle of the kitchen. Then Daisy let out a disbelieving laugh and looked out the big picture window behind her.
Junie’s feet slapped against the floor a second later, breaking the tension.
“I’m clean,” she announced, holding up her hands as evidence. “Are there more pancakes?”
I ruffled her wild blonde hair as I walked to the oven. “Of course, there are.”
I’d made extra on purpose—even on good days, Junie’s eating was hit or miss.
Berries? Yes. Anything green? Hard no. Only one brand of chicken nuggets was allowed in the house, and pancakes were her current obsession.
I’d learned that over months of scraped plates, early mornings, and sitting at this same kitchen counter convincing her to take one more bite.
I knew these things not because a caseworker told me, but because I’d been here. I’d been her safe place for months of headaches and hospital stays. I’d been the one waiting with open arms to hug her after she said her last goodbye.
Daisy didn’t know those things. Not yet.
I slid a pancake onto Junie’s favorite purple plate and set it in front of her at the counter. She climbed onto her stool, ripped off a corner, and dipped it into the little syrup cup. The world might implode if any sauce touched her food before she deemed it worthy.
The weight of Daisy and Emmy’s eyes prickled against the back of my neck, and I knew they were noticing everything.
How relaxed Junie was with me.
How she’d made this house hers months ago.
How none of this was temporary for me.
“She spends a lot of time here,” Daisy said quietly.
Junie nodded around a mouthful of pancake. “I like Ty’s house. I have my own room, and the bathtub is huge.”
I finally turned to face Daisy. She wasn’t looking at me anymore, but at the space around her—the big farmhouse kitchen I’d redone two years ago, trying to erase the bad memories of my childhood that clung to the old wallpaper.
Wide windows facing the mountains. Warm wooden cabinets I’d installed myself.
The hand-scraped floorboards that told a story of decades of Hudsons before me.
Ones I had hoped to share with Junie for the next ten years.
Standing here now, anxiety crawled up my spine; every plan I’d made seemed too fragile to examine.
Tomorrow, it could all disappear.
Tomorrow, I might lose her.
Once Junie finished her pancakes and walked her plate over to the sink, the energy seemed to fade out of her. She grabbed her stuffed rabbit, then curled up on the couch. Rowdy followed her as if he too could feel the moment the weight of everything came crashing back down on my girl.
I stood at the kitchen sink, washing the last of the dishes until Emmy came and hip-checked me out of the way. “Go,” she said in a low whisper meant only for me. “I’ll do that, and you deal with”—she waved a hand at my whole body—“whatever this is.”
“You just pointed at all of me.”
“Yes, well, I’m currently deciding if I need to turn you into Body Snatchers, because what the fuck, Ty?”
I frowned down at my sister, trying to rein in my reaction. Because what the fuck, indeed.
Daisy left the table and went to my couch, sitting next to where June rested her head. With a gentle tap on her shoulder, she urged Junie onto her lap, then began brushing her fingers through her tangled mess of hair. “Should I tell you a story?” she asked.
Junie’s little head bobbed, and she curled up tighter into a ball. “Yeah.”
I leaned back against the counter, letting my sister take over the dishes, but didn’t seem capable of moving.
Daisy began a story about a family of bunnies that all had superpowers, each one more outrageous than the next.
June didn’t laugh when she was supposed to, but she did offer tidbits to the story when prompted, showing she was listening.
Watching them together made me catalog every similarity between them.
Daisy’s hair was a shade lighter than Junie’s, but the waves were the same, soft and wild around their faces.
They both had those same freckles dusting their noses, like the sun had marked them as its favorites.
The same blue eyes, too—Daisy’s older, Junie’s softer—but capable of wrecking me in the same way.
While Junie felt mine in every way that mattered, it was obvious Daisy claimed a piece of her too.
Fuck.
The water shut off as Emmy finished rinsing the last of the dishes, then bumped the dishwasher closed with her hip.
She wiped her hands on a towel and gave me that look—one part sister smug, one part don’t test me.
When she jerked her head toward the hallway, I followed her to the front door like an obedient idiot.
“Behave,” she said, voice soft but deadly, like I was her unruly fifteen-year-old son instead of her thirty-seven-year-old brother. “Or else.”
My brows shot up. “Or else, what?”
She crossed her arms, her mouth curving in a way that meant she was about to hit me where it hurt. She nodded toward the living room.
I followed her gaze.
Daisy and Junie were curled up together on my couch, both sound asleep.
Daisy’s head had fallen back against the cushion, mouth parted just slightly, one hand resting on Junie’s back like it had always belonged there.
Junie’s limbs were thrown over Daisy’s lap, socked toes dangling off the edge of the couch.
The sight slammed into me like a clean hit to the boards.
“You’ll lose that, Ty,” Emmy whispered. “You’ll lose both of them.”
The air left my lungs in one long, uneven exhale.
Emmy rose on tiptoe, kissed my cheek, and smacked the underside of my hat as she pulled away. The damn thing flew off my head and landed a few feet away on the entry rug. “Bye, jerk.”
I huffed out something that might’ve been a laugh if my chest didn’t feel so fucking tight. “Bye, pest.”
When the door shut behind her, the house fell into the kind of quiet I’d always loved out here—soft, steady, mountain-quiet. Only this time, it wasn’t comforting.
It was heavy.
Rowdy lifted his head from where he lay tangled between Junie’s legs, ears twitching, then laid it back down, satisfied nothing required his attention.
I stepped farther into the living room, hat dangling from my hand, eyes locked on the couch.
Even asleep, Junie had one hand fisted in Daisy’s sweatshirt, like she wasn’t letting go. And Daisy… she looked like she wouldn’t let her, either.
It shouldn’t gut me the way it did. But it did.
Because she wasn’t just Violet’s sister.
She was the one Junie was supposed to grow up with; the only blood family she had left. And if the courts decided that’s what was best for her—if Daisy wanted it—she’d be gone. Junie would leave this house. This life. Me.
The fear that had been simmering all day surged through my chest.