Chapter 5 - Gray

I really don't want to be here.

It makes me feel like I'm a criminal.

Looking around the sparsely furnished room, that previous sense of claustrophobia takes hold of me once again. It hit me the first time when the kind lady, who showed us in here, left to grab the drinks we asked her for. I wasn't even thirsty then, but she offered them so nicely that I felt like we couldn't really decline.

Now, my mouth is dry and my throat is burning and I cannot wait for her to bring me that water.

The silence in the room is almost suffocating, too. Although I don't feel like chit-chatting about random things, I might just start a conversation with Jordan only to get rid of this deafening silence. It feels awkward and uncomfortable and if that door wasn't closed behind me, I would consider running far away from this depressing place.

Actually, I have no idea if the door is simply shut or if it is locked. My over-imaginative mind, however, is adamant that I heard the turn of a key when the nice lady left. But surely, since we are obviously not criminals, I am just making this up. It must be against the law to lock people in while they are waiting for someone, even if this is a police station.

My thoughts wander back to when Alex took me to his workplace for Future Day last year. That was the first time I had actually ever been inside a police station. And although it doesn't hold the best memories because of what it triggered after I had a look at our birth records, I am convinced that his workplace was way less intimidating.

Their meeting rooms had windows, at least. The one where we were offered donuts and where Finn and Alex met the first time overlooked a square bustling with people and activity. In here, all I can see when lifting my head from the table are dull, gray concrete walls.

I wonder how Finn is doing.

I feel a smile tugging at the corners of my lips just thinking of him. He must still be stuck on that awful RV vacation with his bio dad and his family. I haven't heard from him all week, so I assume that he was right and they did choose to go somewhere with no cell phone service. Or he has done something to get his phone taken away as a punishment. Wouldn't be the first time, either.

"Here you go, darling," a voice sounds, almost making me jump out of my skin.

Instantly, a hand lands on my shoulder, patting it comfortingly.

"You okay there, kiddo?"

I first glance at the bottle of water that the nice lady must have placed on the table in front of me and then to my left, where Jordan sits. He is looking at me with an unreadable expression. The kind he has been wearing ever since we left the car and stepped into the police building. I stare at him for a few seconds and finally, his features soften slightly and he offers me a small, encouraging smile.

"Spacing off again, I see," he mutters, more to himself than anyone else.

"Chief Johnson wants me to let you know that they'll be with you shortly," the woman, who looks really pretty and has the kindest eyes that resemble liquid chocolate, explains.

Instantly, Jordan's weird expression is back on his face as he turns to look at her.

"Thank you," he says, sounding very businesslike.

Not at all like the guy who normally flirts with any female that crosses his path, no matter how old or what type she is. If she is even remotely pretty, my brother automatically turns on his charm, like he can't help himself. It is very unusual to see him acting so cool, almost disengaged.

Maybe it is because of what happened. It would make sense that the shock of Sam's accident makes us all act differently. It is kind of the same with me, I guess. I am probably not acting like myself, either. Although I am trying very hard to keep my composure in order to spare my family from having to deal with me crying all the time, it is an impossible feat. Somebody just needs to look at me the wrong way and I am ready to burst into tears.

It almost happened a few minutes ago, too, when the kind lady with the beautiful eyes left us behind in this unfriendly room that feels like a prison cell. My emotions are clearly all over the place and I can barely control them, so really, I should not be surprised if my brothers feel overwhelmed, too, and act strange.

Perhaps this is Jordan's copying mechanism.

"By the way, I am very sorry that we've had to put you in such a dreadful room. We are currently renovating the building and some of the meeting rooms are not available because of that. And the rest, those that are more comfortable, are already occupied. That left us with only this not-so-nice option, I'm afraid," the woman explains as if she were reading my mind.

"Don't worry about it," Jordan grunts.

Jeez, does he have to sound so rude?

We may be going through something really traumatic right now, but that is no reason for him to be unfriendly and act so standoffish.

"Your... daughter...?" The woman gives me a questioning look when she says that rather cautiously and then continues before we can react to her assumption: "She looks a bit freaked out and I cannot really blame her. It is quite daunting in here, isn't it, darling?"

"She's not my daughter," Jordan corrects her rather coldly.

"Oh, I'm sorry... I must have... of course she's not. I mean, I should know that her father's talking to detective Johnson right now. Silly me, I wasn't thinking. I'm sorry."

Despite myself, I cannot help but giggle a bit at her flustered reaction. It is always the same when I am somewhere with Jordan. He makes most girls go kinda funny when they're in the room with him. Although, with him behaving so horribly right now, I wonder what she even sees in him. Maybe she's just a generally bubbly and kind person.

Yeah, that makes more sense, because there is nothing attractive about Jordan right now.

"He's my brother," I offer her an explanation.

My voice comes out scratchy because other than asking for some water earlier, I have barely spoken two sentences all morning. I woke up at the break of dawn, cuddled up tightly against Sean, who was still asleep then. As soon as my brain was fully awake, I had my first little breakdown. And although I tried to cry quietly into the pillow so that I would not be found out, Sean woke up and saw exactly how weak I am.

He held me close and whispered comforting words to me, but it took what felt like an eternity for me to calm down. I think he cried a little, too, because there was a wet patch on top of my head when I reached up and smoothed down my hair once I finally climbed out of bed. Also, his eyes were a bit blood-shot and red-rimmed. It hurt to see him like this.

But I was glad that we just quietly accepted each other's pain and didn't talk about it. That was kind of new though, since Sean always wants to talk about everything, even more so when it comes to emotional stuff. Maybe that only applies to when something is bothering me, or the twins, or any one of our brothers, but not when he himself is involved. Or maybe he is simply overwhelmed with the whole situation, too. Which I totally get.

We wordlessly got ready, using the bathroom one after the other. Since I let him go first, he was waiting patiently for me when I came out and gently pulled me into his side. I didn't say it to him, but I appreciated the comfort his presence gave me when we walked into the living area together. Ever since Jordan got me to come out of my hiding place, I have felt strangely clingy.

Surprisingly, neither of our other brothers were up when we got to the kitchen. I glanced at the clock and saw that it was not even eight o'clock yet. However, Alex and also Jordan are not known to sleep in, even less so when we are at the cabin. Here, they get even more obsessed with being active and "seizing the day", as Alex calls it. I expected them to be on a run or do some other physical workout, but it turned out that they were simply still in bed.

Another thing that didn't add up and made me feel weird about this day.

Once they were finally up, they didn't seem to be in the mood for a lot of conversation, either, which was just fine with me. They buzzed around the kitchen, preparing coffee for themselves. And Jordan gave me my favorite big mug filled to the brim with tea. This came together with the tiniest smile and the order to "drink up". Nothing else. Nobody forced me to eat breakfast this morning. They didn't eat, either.

As we sat quietly around the kitchen table, a lot of questions ran through my mind.

Where had they been last night and when did they get back?

Was Hannah still at the hospital?

When will we be going home?

Where is Sam?

But I didn't ask any of these questions out loud.

Not because I was necessarily afraid of the answers, but because I didn't want to speak. Instead, I listened to their rather restrained verbal exchanges. I learned that Hannah's parents arrived last night and are now looking after her and will take her home sometime today. I wanted to ask why they weren't staying at the cabin with us, but then decided that this was a stupid question. It was bad enough for me when I hid in Sam's and Hannah's room. The memories were really hard to deal with. It would be impossible for her.

I was pulled out of my thoughts when Alex directly addressed me for the first time that morning. He told me that we needed to be ready ten minutes later to go to the police station. That almost caused me to break down again, but I luckily managed to hold back my tears. I had completely forgotten about that part and I was a little freaked out when I remembered that I was supposed to talk to a police officer about what I witnessed.

Jordan, who sat closest to me, must have noticed my discomfort and he told me that he would be there with me the whole way. That gave me a tiny bit of reassurance, but I truly would have wanted for Alex to say this to me. Unfortunately, my oldest brother looked kind of disengaged when I glanced at him to see his reaction and didn't really pay me any attention.

If possible, he looked worse than the night before. Not only was his face the grayest color ever, but the dark rings under his eyes were even more prominent. He appeared haggard and his cheeks were hollow. It broke my heart so see him so lost and sad. I didn't even want to imagine what he would look like in a few days if this was what happened to him within less than 24 hours.

The only other sentence that I spoke this morning until we arrived at the police station was when Alex told me to dress properly and I refused to acknowledge his order. I was still wearing Sam's hoodie, which is like a dress on me, and I paired it with leggings. Apparently, my brother didn't think this was appropriate wardrobe to give a statement to the police. I told him in no uncertain terms that either he would accept my dress choice or I would refuse to go anywhere with him.

Luckily, Sean realized that this was likely to blow up if Alex kept insisting and I kept refusing, so he interfered before it could turn into a full-blown fight. He told our oldest brother to leave me alone and that he doubted that anyone at the police station would care what I was wearing. Jordan backed this up and Alex eventually accepted it with a disapproving grunt.

Of course, I felt like crying because of his obvious rebuke and disregard for my feelings, but Sean was quick to assure me that Alex was not angry with me. When he helped me roll up the sleeves of the hoodie so that I could use my hands properly and looked less like an orangutan (his words!), he also told me quietly what Jordan had already said last night, which is that this hit our oldest brother really hard and that we would have to try our best to be patient and understanding with him if we wanted to help him through this. I admit that his words did help to make me feel less upset.

The last bit of uncertainty about Alex being mad at me went away when he gave me a quick hug before we stepped into the police station. It is the first and so far only affectionate gesture I have received from him ever since he and Jordan got here.

"But how can he be... I mean...?" the nice lady stammers quietly, trying to put together the pieces of the puzzle that is our family.

She must have figured out that Alex can't be Jordan's father. It is pretty obvious that they are more or less the same age. Now, she's probably trying to do the math to see if we could have the same mother and not the same father, or something. Which, technically, could be possible.

"We're both her brothers. Siblings, all of us," Jordan says curtly in that even, unemotional voice that he has been using when speaking to her.

I cannot stop myself any longer and kick him in the shin because I find his behavior insufferable. He flinches at the unexpected violence and I feel a tiny bit triumphant. Although I am glad that he is here with me – all the way, as he claimed earlier – I don't find his company very pleasant right now.

"I'm sorry that he's such a grump," I tell her sincerely. "He isn't normally like this."

Jordan lets out a low growl, which I ignore. This kind woman is the only good thing about this horrible place and I think the least we can do is be amicable towards her, just like she is with us. It is not her fault that they are renovating this place. And that this is a police station. And that I am about to be interviewed and forced to talk about something I don't want to talk about. And also not that we are kept waiting.

"I'm Lily, by the way," I introduce myself to show her that some of us have manners.

"Nice to meet you, Lily. My name's Marcia," she replies, giving me a toothy smile.

My stomach chooses this moment to make an embarrassingly growling sound and instantly, my cheeks heat up.

"Oh dear, someone's hungry," Marcia states, winking at me. "There is a vending machine right outside this room. Do you want to come get a snack with me?"

Since I haven't eaten dinner last night nor breakfast this morning, it is not surprising that my body is starting to rebel. But the mere thought of food makes me feel sick. Although, maybe I could eat a bar of chocolate...

I turn to look at Jordan to see what he thinks of this suggestion and find that he is not even paying us any attention. Instead, his gaze is fixated on the phone in his hand and he is busy texting someone. His eyebrows are furrowed and he looks kind of annoyed.

"Jordan, may I...," I start but he interrupts me.

"You're staying right here."

His voice has this no-nonsense tone to it and I instinctively shuffle away from him. This person sitting next to me is the complete opposite of the sensitive big brother that sat cross-legged in front of my hiding space yesterday evening, coaxing me to come out with kind words and loads of empathy.

What has happened to make him so grumpy?

I glance back at Marcia, ready to turn down her offer and give her some kind of excuse when the door of the meeting room opens and three people walk in. My eyes immediately land on Alex, who is following behind an older, shorter man who is wearing a too-big gray suit and has a full head of grayish hair as well as a beard.

Is everything gray in this place?

The short man looks like he is in charge. He must be the chief that Marcia was referring to earlier. Chief Johnson, I think she said. He oozes authority, which is why I assume this is the guy. But because my brother is literally towering over him by at least a head, I have to put a bit of effort into focusing on this guy instead of their rather amusing height-difference.

Then my eyes are drawn to the third person. He is stepping into the room right after Alex. He is of average height and dressed semi-casually in a pair of dark blue jeans, a white shirt and a black suit jacket. He looks a few years older than Alex, maybe in his early forties, because there are some silver strands in his otherwise dark hair. His face is open and friendly. There are a few crinkles in the corners of his eyes, making me believe that he smiles a lot. A bit like Sean.

"Take a seat, gentlemen," the chief says in a firm voice that surprises me a bit.

I guess nobody dares to disobey the guy, even if he does look a bit like Santa. He even sends me a welcoming smile and a nod when he finds me looking at him. I watch as Chief Johnson or whatever his name is takes a seat across from Jordan while the other guy pulls a chair out right opposite me. He also sends me a small welcoming smile which I cautiously return. Alex comes around the table and takes the free seat on my other side.

Marcia lingers in the doorway, looking a bit uncertain of what to do. I wonder if she is still hung up on getting me a snack. If so, I try to figure out how to make her understand that it is fine. I have lost my appetite the moment these three came in.

This is something not even chocolate can fix.

Shoving my hands underneath my butt to keep them from shaking too obviously, I hunch over a bit and go back to staring at the table in front of me. I wish I could just teleport myself out of this room, because I dread what is to come any moment now.

I hear the chief whisper something before he officially dismisses Marcia in a louder voice. When the door closes behind her, I flinch. There it is again, this feeling of being imprisoned. I don't like it.

"Hello, Lily. My name is Chief Johnson. I run the police department in this county," he greets me with a surprisingly warm voice.

When I don't reply and also don't look up right away, Jordan's big hand lands on my knee and he squeezes it. I am not quite sure if this is his way of reminding me of my manners or if he is trying to reassure me. Normally, I would guess the latter, but with his strange mood today, it could well be the other. To not give him any reason to get even crankier, I slowly lift me head and look at Chief Johnson.

"Hi," I reply a bit sheepishly.

"And I understand you are Lily's other brother?" he then addresses Jordan.

"Yes. Jordan Taylor. Pleasure to meet you," my brother says, not sounding very pleased at all.

My eyes travel to the guy next to the chief. I want to know who this is. Something tells me that this guy is more important than Chief Johnson. Not necessarily by rank – not that I know anything about police department structures – but for other reasons that I cannot put my finger on. It's just the air he is giving off.

"I'd like to introduce you to FBI agent Jerrell Lewis," the chief continues.

The spit I have just been about to swallow literally gets stuck in my throat and I cough awkwardly, which immediately makes everybody look at me.

Why do I have to talk to an FBI agent?

I may not know much about law enforcement and such, despite Alex's career, but I have watched crime shows and one thing I have learned from it is that it is never good when these guys get involved. A shiver runs down my spine as I awkwardly try to clear my throat.

This feels very wrong.

"Are you here because somebody murdered Sam?" I ask without thinking.

The moment these words leave my mouth, Jordan's grip on my knee tightens rather painfully. Although Alex's and my body are not touching, I can sense that he stiffens beside me. The air in the room suddenly grows heavy and I wish I could take back what I said. It didn't happen on purpose, it literally was the first thing that popped into my mind and before I could stop myself, it slipped out.

"Is that what you're thinking?" a new voice asks me. "That this is what happened to your brother?"

I blink a few times and only then realize that it was the FBI agent who spoke. His voice is incredibly calm and smooth. A bit like when Alex is in one of his parental moods and tries to get a point across by putting reason before yelling. It sounds warm and confident and most of all, very patient and understanding.

My head automatically turns to my right to look at Alex when these thoughts cross my mind. I wish that this side of my big brother would have come out sometimes, too, since he arrived here yesterday. Under normal circumstances, his characteristic calm and collectedness and the amount of empathy he often displays for us younger kids can get on my nerves. Mostly when I am being "unreasonable", which is the nicer way that my older brothers put it when I am having a tantrum of sorts. Now, I really want nothing more than for said caring and compassionate side to come out.

But the only emotions I detect when my eyes land on his ashen face – is it possible that this ugly gray concrete wall reflects on a person's face? – are desperation and hurt. I swallow the lump that is growing in my throat and quickly look away before I start to tear up yet again. I repeat my newest mantra in my head.

Don't cry, Lily. You are not going to cry.

"I... I am not just thinking that. I know it!" I eventually find the courage to answer the agent's question.

The same eerie silence engulfs us after I say this. I totally cannot read the room, which is rather frustrating. I am torn between thinking that they do a great job hiding their shock at my words – nobody gasped, which I think is quite an achievement – and suspecting that neither of them are even a tiny bit surprised by my statement. I hope it isn't the latter, but from the few things both Jordan and Sean have said yesterday, I fear that this is exactly what is going on.

Jordan admitted that our mysterious father is somehow involved in all of this. And Sean said that Josh and Tom went on that weird business trip to Maine, of all places. Not to forget that Sean and Alex were there only just a few days ago, too.

And so was Will. They don't know anything about that, of course. At least, I hope they don't.

Sam was murdered and my brothers know why it happened!

That must be the reason why they are not surprised by anything I say. I let out an unidentifiable, anxious sound when my mind makes this connection, starting to feel sick again. Luckily, nobody seems to have noticed because they don't react to my weird behavior.

"That's why I'm here, Lily. For you to tell me exactly what you saw yesterday. Do you think you can do that?" agent Lewis wants to know, his voice still silkily smooth.

I stare wordlessly at him as he grabs a briefcase that I didn't even notice him carrying into the room. Then he brings out two items. One is a laptop and one is a black rectangle box-like thing about a third of an inch thick. It looks a bit like a longish but kind of fat iPod with a tiny screen. He connects it to his laptop and presses a button. A small red light starts blinking.

"I am going to record your statement, if that's okay with you."

I doubt I have any say in this and I get a bit annoyed that he is even asking.

What would he do if I refused?

Would he just take notes on his laptop?

I glance at Jordan first, feeling reluctant to look at Alex again because seeing him like this is breaking my heart. Unfortunately, the sight of my third eldest brother isn't exactly soothing, either. He is literally drilling holes into poor agent Lewis with his piercing stare. I wonder if he doesn't want to me talk to the guy. Maybe Jordan is just as confused by the FBI showing up as I am.

Or maybe not.

Because it is very clear to me that my brothers know a whole lot more about all that is happening here than I ever will. They probably even expected the FBI to show up. But that doesn't mean Jordan has to like it.

Suppressing a frustrated sigh, I turn my head in Alex's direction and, to my utter surprise, I find him looking right at me. His eyes, although slightly red-rimmed, are kind and the look he gives me is one of encouragement. I let out a shuddering breath of relief at this small sign that my familiar big brother is still somewhere in there and that he managed to show me that part of him at just the right time.

"It's okay, pea-... Lily," he quickly corrects himself and my heart flutters at his almost calling me his infamous nickname.

I have to suppress a small giggle which is bubbling in my throat at his near slip-up. Alex knows that I hate it if they call me these well-meant but embarrassing names in front of other people. Even worse, in front of people we've only just met. Also, it would make him look really unprofessional, I guess, and he probably wants to be taken seriously, since he's a detective himself.

"Agent Lewis, agent Graham, Chief Johnson and I had a briefing beforehand and I, as your guardian, agreed that they could record your statement. But you can still refuse. Nobody is forcing you to do anything you don't feel comfortable with," Alex assures me.

"Agent Graham?" I question, ignoring his other well-meaning offer.

"My partner. She'll be with us shortly. She had to finish a few calls," agent Lewis explains, giving me a small smile, having noticed my confusion.

If this felt strange before, that feeling just intensifies right now as I learn that there are even more people involved. I mean, of course, a crime has been committed, a horrendous one at that. But whether that justifies so many people working on it, I really don't know. Maybe it is standard procedure and I just don't have a clue. TV shows don't teach you that much.

"Anyway, if it's okay with you, I'd like to start, even if my partner's not yet here," agent Lewis continues when nobody else says anything. "Unless you want us to wait until a female agent is present. If that makes you feel more comfortable?"

I look at Alex again, wondering what I am supposed to reply to this.

Does the guy not know that I have grown up surrounded by boys?

Being in a room with four men is not what makes me uncomfortable. It is the reason for being here in the first place that is making me want to run for the hills and forget this ever happened.

"She's fine with just us here, right, Lily?" Alex assumes correctly, speaking for me.

I nod and when they all keep looking expectantly at me, I add a quick, verbal "yes".

Agent Lewis flashes me another smile and then presses the button on what I have now figured out is a voice recorder. He does a quick test to see if it's working properly and once he is ready, he lifts his finger and presses the button again. When a little green light flashes, he reads a few coordinates, like date and time and attendees, off his laptop screen in an even voice, like he has done it a million times before.

Then he shifts his whole attention on me.

"To start with, I'd like you to tell me what you all did in the morning of Friday, July 5th 2019."

This first question already throws me for a loop.

Why does he want to know what we did in the morning?

How is that even important?

I feel my hands starting to get sweaty and cold at the same time. They also begin to shake again, so I quickly put them back under my thighs, trapping them. Although I have tried to prepare myself for the pain of having to go through these horrifying memories, I didn't expect them to want to know more than just about those dreadful few minutes before the accident happened and what I witnessed when it did.

I don't know if I am ready to tell these people about the happy times with Sam and Hannah. Our breakfast together and the carefree teasing when they were acting gross and kissing in the parking lot like loved-up teenagers. This feels too difficult.

The grip on my knee tightens again, reminding me that Jordan has not yet taken his hand away. It has a strangely calming effect on me. I think he is trying to tell me that it is okay.

"Just go with it, peanut. You can do it," Alex's voice is suddenly in my right ear.

He is leaning in really closely so that I am the only one hearing him.

"Lewis is easing you in, which is the professional thing to do. You just answer his questions to the best of your ability and tell him everything you remember. There is no right or wrong, so please don't worry about any of that. Just be honest and give them as many details as possible. I'll be right here with you and so is Jordan. It's gonna be okay," he whispers.

I feel tears fill my eyes at my brother's comforting words. This is the Alex I wanted by my side ever since he came up here yesterday. I am so glad that he managed to become more of himself just in time. The current situation is incredibly difficult and I don't trust myself to get through this without his support. But knowing that he is fully there with me now is just the encouragement I need. I will try my best to do Sam justice by telling them everything I saw.

Pulling my right hand out from under my thigh, I blindly reach for Alex's. As if he anticipated my move, his big, warm hand engulfs mine and gives it a gentle squeeze. I instantly feel my body relax and the shaking stops as if somebody had pushed a button.

I shift my focus back on the agent in front of me and when he notices that he has my attention, he again presses the button on the voice recorder. He must have turned it off during my quiet exchange with Alex, which I appreciate. I wouldn't want him to record anything that is not important to the case.

"So, yesterday morning," agent Lewis repeats. "What did you do?"

I take a deep breath, forcing my brain to go back 24 hours. Instantly, images of a stressed out Sam and a laughing Hannah flash through my mind. Swallowing the lump in my throat, I tell my audience about my brother's futile attempts to concentrate on his upcoming race while his fiancée and I did everything we could think of to distract him. We made it our mission to tease him relentlessly for being such a competitive freak and he all but dumped his super gross breakfast smoothie over our heads when he couldn't get us to shut up.

Our last moments together, I suddenly realize, were carefree and wonderful. It felt nice to spend some time away from the rest of our rambunctious family and I know I will treasure those few days with Sam for the rest of my life.

At one point of me retelling what we did that morning, a warm calloused hand cups my cheek and I feel a thumb caressing my skin. It is only then that I notice that I have started crying again. Embarrassed and slightly annoyed with myself for being such a crybaby, I drop my head. I no longer feel comfortable facing these men sat across the table from me.

"It's okay, peanut, you're doing great," Alex reassures me quietly.

Although I don't agree with him because we have not even gotten to the really difficult part yet and I am already an emotional wreck, I appreciate his gesture. I am about to wipe my runny nose with the sleeve of Sam's hoodie but stop myself just in time. I have no intention of ever washing it as otherwise it will lose its typical Sam smell. So, I have to be careful not to get it dirty. Before I can dwell on my dilemma any longer, a box of tissues appears in my blurry line of vision. I grab one and sheepishly blow my nose before giving Alex a grateful nod.

"Are you okay to continue, Lily?" agent Lewis asks me.

It looks like he stopped the recording, again. This must be so annoying for him. If it goes on like this, we will be here all day. I give him a small, almost inaudible confirmation. He is repeating his previous question when the door is suddenly and forcefully pushed open. I jump at the unexpected sound and stare at the new person entering the room. My heartbeat is in my throat but it slows down as soon as I realize that there is nothing to be afraid of.

A woman with very blonde hair that is pulled up in a bouncy ponytail confidently strides into the meeting room. Her face is round and her eyes are big and blue. She looks very kind. There is a dimple in her right cheek that comes out rather prominently with that wide smile she is wearing. It reminds me of Sean – although he has them on both sides of his face.

She walks up to the empty chair on the left of agent Lewis but stops before sitting down. Looking around the room at each individual person, her smile slowly vanishes. I watch as she narrows her eyes at agent Lewis and then none-too-gently hits his shoulder.

"Really, Jer? I leave you alone for two minutes and you've already managed to make her cry? Un-freakin-believable. – Hey there, Lily, I'm FBI agent Tamara Graham. It's great to meet you. And sorry I left you alone with this emotional bulldozer. Ah, and call me Tammy, please," she introduces herself, rolling her eyes at me when she chastizes her partner.

I don't know what it is, but something about her immediately puts me at ease. She is like a breath of fresh air in this dull, gray room that I shared with men who are either acting very professional or – in Jordan's case – rather hostile. To be fair though, both law enforcement guys have been very nice to me, too. But they don't give off positive vibes like agent Graham is. Or Tammy, I guess.

"Hi," I greet her back, adding a small smile to show her that I am glad she is here.

"I assume you are Lily's other brother?" Tammy asks, looking curiously at Jordan.

I turn towards him, curious to see how he is going to react to her since he was so unfriendly to Marcia earlier. But nothing seems to have changed. Jordan greets her with the same expressionless face. I am starting to worry about him. I never knew that he could be so unaffected by women. Maybe I have been too quick to judge him all these years, which was purely based on my experiences with him in the past.

"Jordan," he states flatly.

"Pleasure to meet you," Tammy replies, flashing him the widest smile ever.

It doesn't look flirty, as far as I can judge, but more like she is not taking him and his strange badass-attitude seriously. I think if this situation weren't so stressful, I would find this very entertaining. Good for her that she is not letting him get to her with his arrogant behavior.

"Just to get you up to speed, Lily, I am leading this investigation. And agent Lewis here – I am sure he told you to call him that because he's a stickler for formalities – is my trusty side-kick, so to say. Or not so trusty right this moment, I guess, because he clearly did something to upset you. I apologize for him. He's a bit rough around the edges." She winks at me as she says that. "Do you need a minute or are you feeling well enough to continue?"

"I'm okay," I say firmly.

"Great. I really appreciate you telling us what you witnessed yesterday. It'll help us a great deal to bring these guys to justice. And I promise you, I will do anything within my power to make that happen."

Tammy's words hit the right spot with me and I vow internally that this unnecessary little breakdown was the last of its kind for as long as we are inside this police station. I need them to catch the people who did this to Sam. In order to achieve that, I have to make sure to give them all the information I can. Having Tammy here, I feel like I will be able to do it.

"So, where were you at?" she asks her partner.

He gives her a quick rundown of what I told them already and then Tammy takes over. With her in charge and asking the questions, it suddenly doesn't feel like an interrogation anymore. She makes it more like a dialogue, not like taking a statement. There is something about her that is very relaxing and I soon feel like I am chatting to an old friend. This is why I tell her everything.

How I couldn't fit my phone in the pocket of my shorts and left it in the car. Tammy totally understands the "complicated logistics" of it all – something the boys would have questioned, for sure – and never once makes me feel bad for having had no means to contact anyone when I recognized the stranger on the opposite side of the road.

She listens closely when I explain how shocked and confused I was that the stranger showed up on the mountain of all places after we only just saw him a few days earlier. I tell her about this guy in the ocean blue shirt. How he stood there, right next to the stranger, talking to him, and then he suddenly disappeared. Only to reappear literally out of nowhere minutes later as part of the race. In the middle of Sam's cycling group.

And Tammy is incredibly empathic when I give them a very detailed account of how the accident happened. I solely focus on her when recounting everything I witnessed because I don't dare looking at either of my brothers so I wouldn't cry again. Although I had this long conversation with Jordan only last night, we never touched on this specific subject. It was too hard for either of us to talk about.

Jordan's grip on my knee has become quite strong and a bit painful during my statement and more so when I got to the part about the guy pushing Sam over the edge. I think he didn't know until now that I literally witnessed the whole thing happening. Even without looking at him, I can tell that he is frozen in his spot as he absorbs my words.

Alex has also tightened his hold on my hand when I got to that part. Only when he realizes that his iron grip might break my bones, he pulls it away, leaving me with clammy fingers.

"I am so very sorry, Lily, that you had to witness this. This is horrible," Tammy says, her voice full of compassion for my situation.

She is the first person to speak after we all sat in silence for a while. I guess everyone else is still trying to process what I told them. Finally, looking up at Alex, it reveals how hearing what I saw is especially hard for him to deal with. His previously gray complexion has now turned ghostly white. He looks spooked and very, very broken.

Not wanting to see him like this any longer, I turn to look at Jordan instead. He doesn't appear to be even remotely as broken as Alex, but that doesn't mean I prefer the expression on his face. A vein is prominently pulsating near his temple and he is clenching his teeth. He seems angry, with his eyes narrowed into tiny slits as he stares at something unidentifiable on the opposite wall.

Jordan's hand, no longer on my knee, is balled into a tight fist resting on the table right next to me. I contemplate putting my hand on it, hoping to calm him down, but when I reach out for it and my fingers graze his knuckles, he pulls away as if my touch burnt him. Also, his breathing is shallow and he is incredibly tense, like a wind-up toy ready to go crazy the moment you let go of the key.

My brother's attitude is making me kind of anxious and I instinctively shuffle a bit closer to Alex. I'd rather not be too close when Jordan explodes, which seems very likely. Although, I wonder who his target would be. The real target – the stranger – is obviously not here. And surely nobody else in this room deserves his wrath.

"... phantom image?" Chief Johnson's voice filters into my thoughts.

My head shoots up and I look at the three people sitting across from me.

"Would you be up for that, Lily?" Tammy asks me.

"Huh... I... umm... sorry, what did you ask me?"

I feel a bit embarrassed for not paying attention to what they were saying. They are all here to get my statement and I am just letting my thoughts drift off. I hope Alex won't be mad with me for that. I know how much he hates it when I space out.

"Chief Johnson suggested that we try to get a phantom image of that so-called stranger and his accomplice. Would you be up for that? You know what I am talking about, yes?" she explains kindly.

Of course I know what a phantom image is. I am only not too sure how this will work. Maybe there is a chance that we can get one done about the stranger, since that guy's face is forever burnt into my mind. But the ocean blue t-shirt guy, I doubt I have any information that is useful. I only saw him for a few seconds, at most. Nevertheless, I nod and agree to do it.

"Right, awesome. I'll put that call out and see if the artist is free. She should be here in about an hour, two max," Chief Johnson announces.

Does he mean I have to stay here for another few hours?

This better be a joke, because I don't think I can stand being in this room any longer than absolutely necessary. The mere thought makes me feel sick to my stomach. I crave fresh air.

"There's no need," Tammy speaks up and points at her partner. "Jer here can get it done with Lily, no problem. It's one of the main reasons I put up with his sorry a-... I mean, why I keep him and his wonderful talents around."

I have trouble hiding a grin at what she really was about to say before she corrected herself. I wonder what Tammy's issue is with agent Lewis. He seems nice enough, at least to me. But then again, I can't tell what working with him all day long is like.

They remind me a lot of Alex and his partner, Giulia. She likes to show him who is boss, too, which I found pretty hilarious on the few occasions I watched them interact. From agent Lewis' reaction, it looks like he kind of fears his partner, because he quickly agrees with her suggestion and busily starts clicking on his laptop. He seems to be under quite some pressure, the poor guy.

"Do you want to take a quick break before we do this?" Tammy suggests, looking at me.

I shake my head no. I want to get this done as quickly as possible so that we can get out of here. She gives me an understanding smile but then looks at Alex questioningly as if to confirm that he's okay with my decision.

"You heard her," Alex says.

Under the table, he retakes my hand, causing a shiver to run down my spine. His fingers are like icicles now, even colder than mine. I put my other hand on top if his and slowly start to rub both of mine back and forth, aiming to provide some warmth to him. It is normally the other way round and when he does it to me, it always works wonders to make me feel better. I hope it has the same effect on him.

"Okay, I'm ready," agent Lewis announces, looking expectantly at me.

I return the look, but my expression must have shown how uncertain I am about this process, because Tammy once again rolls her eyes and none-too-gently nudges her partner. They look at each other and seem to have a conversation with their eyes – much like my oldest brothers do, which usually irritates me greatly. Eventually, they come to an understanding and Tammy takes over again.

She starts off by asking me simple questions about the stranger's looks. I tell her about his shaved head, the thick-rimmed black glasses and the five-day stubble, which is dark. Everybody in the room seems impressed that I am so specific and adamant about the state of his facial hair. I remind them that I live with a bunch of guys with insane levels of vanity. The shape, length and labeling of their beards, paired with the best care routine to keep it as perfect as possible has been the boring topic of many dinner conversations.

Tammy moves on to figure out the shape of his face, nose and eyes, his age, specific marks, and so on. I am impressed by all the details I remember as she guides me along. But this is nothing compared to how blown away I am when, after about twenty minutes, agent Lewis turns his laptop screen around and there is the spitting image of the stranger.

I gulp at the sight in front of me and my breathing becomes labored as I lock eyes with the guy who has been haunting my dreams for the past few days. It feels like he is staring right back at me, causing the familiar icy fist to tighten around my heart once again.

"Lily? Are you okay? Is that more or less what he looks like?" Tammy wants to know.

I don't answer because I cannot get a word out.

How did he do this, just based on me answering questions?

"Jordan?" Alex asks, his voice hoarse.

"I don't know, Alex!" the brother to my left growls. "For fuck's sake, I only ever saw that asshole from behind. What with all the fuckin' cameras conveniently out of order that day at the gas station."

Jordan sounds beyond frustrated.

"T-that's the guy," I press out, to stop this from escalating unnecessarily.

I know that Jordan has strong feelings when it comes to the stranger. I don't want them to come back up and for him to explode like he did every time he was confronted with his existence. This version of Jordan scares me too much and I don't think I could deal with it right now.

"That's great. Lewis, let's run this through...," Tammy starts, but he interrupts her.

"Already way ahead of you," he says.

Agent Lewis seems quite pleased with himself that he anticipated what his partner was about to say and I cannot help but be a bit happy for him, too. His drawing skills are fascinating, just based off the information I gave him, and this leaves me rather impressed.

"They are going to run his phantom image through the national database," Chief Johnson explains to me. "This might take a while, so I suggest..."

"Or not," agent Lewis interrupts again. "Bingo. We got a match. Let's see..."

He clicks around on his laptop and I watch with baited breath as Tammy, who has moved closer to him, looks over his shoulder at the screen. Almost simultaneously, they react to whatever they are seeing on there. While Tammy clenches her jaw and closes her eyes for a very brief moment, her partner is not quite as restrained.

"Holy shit... that's one of the guys on Sullivan's short list," he exclaims.

This causes various reactions from the other adults in the room. Alex's fingers almost crush mine to sawdust as his hands ball into fists while my right one is still engulfed by his. Meanwhile, Jordan jumps up so fast that the chair he sat on noisily topples over. And Tammy shouts "Lewis!" really loudly, clearly not impressed by what he just revealed.

The only other person who looks as confused as I feel is Chief Johnson.

Who is Sullivan?

"Who is Sullivan?" the chief asks, before I can.

Well, I don't know if I would have dared to ask, considering that the atmosphere in the room has changed for the worse ever since Lewis' exclamation. So, I am glad that he asked.

"The lead liaison agent from the San Fran office on this case. The nationwide case, the one we talked about earlier. His name's Tom Sullivan."

What?

If the reaction a minute ago was rather explosive, this one is even more ferocious.

Alex jumps to his feet, too, almost pulling me out of my seat because he is still holding my hand.

Jordan yells "Shut up, Lewis!" at the same time as Tammy snarls at her partner to shut up, too.

Chief Johnson slaps his hands, palms down, onto the table, causing the whole piece of furniture to shake as if there were an earthquake.

And my mind goes into overdrive.

Are they talking about the person I am thinking of?

How could it be?

Do I still believe in coincidences, after all that has been happening?

"Alex?" I whisper.

He doesn't react and when I look up at him, I find him just standing there with his hands still balled in into fists. At least he has let go of my hand by now. His arms are just hanging next to his body and he is staring at the two FBI agents with a vacant expressions. Alex looks very lost and that makes me more anxious than the tense atmosphere in the room or the puzzling thoughts torturing my brain.

"Jordan?" I decide to address my other brother, a bit louder this time.

Looking at him, I witness how he forces his previously murderous expression to return to a more neutral one as he turns towards me. At least he is not ignoring me, which is a relief. But even though he appears way calmer than ever since we got here, there is a storm raging behind his dark eyes that he is unable to hide.

Still, I need his reassurance that I am completely on the wrong track. I need him to tell me that this is really only a coincidence. Because it simply can't be that they have been keeping this from me all these years.

My phone suddenly vibrates inside the pockets of Sam's hoodie. I ignore it and focus on the current situation. Swallowing hard, I decide to go for it, since I already have Jordan's attention.

"Is... are they talking about... about Josh's Tom?" I press out, nearly choking on the words.

Jordan closes his eyes and behind me, Alex lets out a defeated groan. The phone stopped vibrating and buzzes once a few seconds later. Whoever tried to call me must have left a voice mail. But I cannot wonder about that right now. Instead, I stare up at Jordan like a deer caught in headlights, hoping against hope that he will laugh off my ridiculous idea.

And then he opens his eyes and nods very slowly.

It is that small movement, that confirmation of the ultimate betrayal that crushes my world once again.

Tom, my soon-to-be brother-in-law, is an FBI agent?

My head starts spinning and my visions gets blurry and an almost deafening buzzing sound hits my eardrums. But I fight the growing darkness with all my might. I can't allow it to swallow me this time. I need to get more answers first.

Biting my lips, I force my brain to count to ten while I take slow, deliberate breaths. I feel heavy hands on my shoulders and I quickly shake them off. Blinking a couple of times, I find Jordan leaning down and staring straight at me when my vision clears. He looks very conflicted. And guilty. There is also a trace of anger, but something tells me it is not aimed at me.

"Baby, I'm sorry. I know this must be a shock for you, but I can explain," he says.

His voice sounds shaky, something I have never before seen happening with him. Not even yesterday, when we had our very emotional conversation. I wonder if it is remorse that he feels. Remorse for all the lies they have been feeding us.

Tom works in marketing.

Tom's job demands that he travels frequently.

Tom has a work commitment and Josh is going with him.

Then another thought hits me.

Josh is engaged to an FBI agent who has a short list that contains the picture of the stranger who is involved in Sam's accident.

If the phone in my pocket wasn't repeatedly buzzing, I think I would have lost my fight against the darkness the moment my brain connects these dots. But the constant vibrations keep me strangely grounded. This allows me to channel what is left of my energy, also fueled by that hurtful sense of betrayal. So, I do what I do best in such situations.

Pushing my chair out of the way, I send Jordan an angry look. Then I turn around, slip past Alex and run around the table, heading straight for the door before any of them can react. Luckily, it isn't locked and I easily manage to pull it open and leave that dreadful gray room and these liars behind.

"Lily, stop!" I hear more than one voice call after me.

I ignore them and continue to run down the corridor that I believe we came from earlier, hoping that it will bring me to the front of the building and out of this place. A place that was supposed to help me find some closure after what happened to Sam. At least that is what Sean and Jordan promised me when they convinced me to cooperate with the police to the best of my ability.

They failed to tell me that Tom, one of my most beloved people, is not who I thought he was.

The pain in my heart at this betrayal almost rips me apart as I dodge a couple of people on my way to supposed freedom. Since the police station isn't very big, I don't encounter many others and I quickly make it to the exit. Nobody stops me as I rush past the reception desk and leave the building.

Once outside, the onslaught of fresh air and bright sunshine is almost too much. I squeeze my eyes into small slits to protect them from the blinding light and hurry in the direction of the parking spaces. Once I have turned the corner of the police building, I stop and lean against the brick wall, breathing heavily. I notice how shaky my legs are.

Then I remember the phone that has been buzzing constantly for the past few minutes. I pull it out of the pocket with trembling fingers. Touching the screen to check who tried to reach me, my eyes are drawn to the contact name at the top of the square message bubble on the lock screen.

Will.

Dread instantly washes over me.

Does he know about Sam?

Is that why he's calling me?

Do I tell him about what I found out just now?

Or does he know about Tom, too?

Nausea takes hold of my body and I gag, feeling like I am going to vomit. But before I can let that happen, I hear Jordan call my name. He sounds very close by. I can already hear the sound of approaching footsteps. He must be running, too. I panic a bit because I don't want to see him right now, let alone talk to him.

If anyone, I'd only consider talking to Will. Until I know otherwise, I'll give him the benefit of the doubt with regards to the latest secret I uncovered.

"Lily! There you are! – Hey, stop running!" Jordan calls out to me.

The moment he comes around the corner, I started running again. But I should have known that it is a futile attempt. Even with a fully recovered knee – mine is still not quite there yet – I would have no chance to outrun my brother with his long legs. For a split second, I consider diving under a parked car to get away from him. He is too big to fit under there and I could at least gain a bit of time.

However, before I can put that plan into action, a strong arm wraps itself around my middle from behind and I find myself hanging in the air like a ragdoll with my legs dangling uselessly in the air. Anger at being man-handled like this, combined with disappointment, causes me to lash out at him. I furiously kick my feet, aiming to hurt him, if necessary, so that he lets me go.

Unfortunately, this is Jordan and he is not only very good at anticipating his opponent's moves, so to speak, but he is also very strong and in prime physical condition. He easily grabs my legs with his left hand while his right still holds my upper body tightly against his chest.

"Calm down, baby."

I start to hit his forearm which is holding me to his body, my back pressed against his front, but that doesn't seem to impress him much, either.

"Stop struggling, kiddo," he instructs me calmly. "Shhh, it's okay. Please stop fighting me. I get that you're furious with us and you've got every right to be pissed off. This is totally on us and we are willing to take all the blame. I promise, you'll get your chance to let your anger out at me and your other brothers. You can hit me or beat me up, if you like, to your heart's desire. But let us explain first, okay, baby? Please."

Jordan sounds so sincere, so defeated, that it literally sucks all the fight out of me. I stop struggling and allow myself to go limp in his hold. He lets out a relieved sigh and I feel his chest heave up and down as he takes a few labored breaths. Then he lets go of my legs and easily swings me up into his arms. I turn in his hold and wrap my legs around his waist with my arms around his neck. I bury my face in his shoulder.

His hand comfortingly rubs my back as he walks us towards the building. I tense, not wanting to go back inside that ugly, depressing, gray meeting room. I also don't want to face the others. I wouldn't know what to say to them. And I don't have any more information to give to them, either.

I deserve to get some information for a change.

Turning my head slightly, I see that Jordan is walking past the entrance and towards a small grassy area. There are a couple of acorn trees and a big wooden bench. Once we reach it, my brother sits down and adjusts me in his lap. Normally, I would get off and sit on my own, but I suddenly crave his close proximity, so I stay where I am.

I feel him move around but don't pay it much attention. My mind is a complete chaos and I struggle to form any coherent thoughts. Closing my eyes, I lean my cheek against Jordan's chest and hope that my busy brain will eventually calm down as my body relaxes.

"Alex will be out in a minute. And then we'll talk."

A/N - Extra long chapter for my patient readers. Did anyone see that coming? And how does Tom's surprising career tie in with the Taylor's secret past? What is happening in Maine? And why is Will looking so urgently to talk to his little sister? Some of it will be revealed in the next chapter, so stay tuned!

Thanks for reading, etc.!