Chapter 7 - Inconsistencies

This car ride must be the most awkward ever.

Nobody has spoken a word since we started on our way back from the police station to the cabin. Although Jordan and I had been chasing each other to the car – forgetting all the dreadful happenings of the past 24 hours for a bit – that little blip of untamed happiness has been very short lived. We all too quickly sobered up and wordlessly climbed into the car when Alex caught up with us.

I try to distract myself from the deafening, uncomfortable silence by watching the world pass by outside the window. It also almost helps to ignore Jordan's frantic typing on his phone screen.

Almost.

I am pretty sure that he is giving his twin an update.

I recall Josh once telling me that for him, the most awkward thing is being stuck in an elevator with strangers. Silently watching the digital floor number increase or decrease, depending on whether you are on your way up or down. Counting the remaining seconds in your head, wishing to be released from this fake prison as quickly as possible. Subconsciously holding your breath and standing stock still as if that would make you invisible, ensuring that you won't draw any unwanted attention to yourself. And then to sneeze at the most inopportune moment.

I remember how I had to laugh at Josh's very vivid description of such an awkward situation. One because of the face he pulled when he said it, and two because I could easily picture this happening to me. I am glad that I don't often have to use elevators. But on those few occasions that I do, I always think of my brother's words.

This, right now, feels just as awkward, if not worse.

I wonder if Jordan is warning him that the cat's out of the bag and that I know about his fiancé's real job. And that I am now aware that Tom, too, is involved in all that weird, shady stuff my brothers are caught up in. Because that is exactly what it feels to me: shady business.

Maybe there is a legitimate reason and a rational explanation for all this secrecy. But they have yet to come clean about everything and until I have all the facts, I will remain cautious and reserve final judgement. Everything certainly seems very fishy to me.

The phone in my pocket vibrates.

This reminds me that Will tried to call me earlier when I was running from the police station. Instantly, dread fills me. I have no idea what my brother knows. Whether anyone has told him about Sam yet. Because it has been more than a full day since the accident, I would hope he knows, but one can never be sure when it comes to Will. He likes to "go off the grid" – that's what Jack calls it when our older brother disappears for days on end without contacting any of us – so maybe nobody got hold of him yet.

I don't want to be the one to tell him.

For a few painfully slow seconds, I consider ignoring that I even own a phone. It feels almost impossible for me to check who has been calling and messaging me. Maybe it isn't Will anymore, but someone else. It could be any of my brothers – other than Aidan and Noah because there is a no-phones-rules at their sports camp during the day – or any of my friends. And I am so not ready to talk to either of them.

While I usually love to be around people and chat all day long, right now, I would prefer to find a quiet place somewhere and just hide from the world. Maybe take a long nap and wake up in a few weeks or months from now, when everything has settled down. When thinking and breathing and simply existing doesn't hurt so much anymore.

I take a shuddering breath, which unfortunately attracts Alex's attention. His eyes lands on me via the rearview mirror and it takes a lot of me to not look away but hold his gaze.

"You okay?" he asks, his voice kind of gruff from not speaking for a while.

I nod wordlessly. My own voice would most likely come out even hoarser than his, seeing as the lump in my throat has returned the moment I started thinking about Josh. And it only grew when my thoughts turned to Will and my other siblings.

"We'll be there in ten," Alex announces kind of pointlessly.

Like I haven't been here a million times before and don't know exactly how far it still is to the cabin. The thought of arriving there is also not making me feel any better. It only means that there will be two more brothers that I have to try to avoid if I want to have time to myself. A near impossible task.

Subconsciously, my hand slips inside the pocket of Sam's hoodie, where my phone is safely tucked away. I am still uncertain about checking who has been trying to get hold of me. But when Jordan starts to talk to Alex, now that the older of the two has broken the awkward silence between us, curiosity eventually gets the better of me.

I pull out the phone and put it in my lap so that the boys in the front won't notice what I am doing. It's not like I am not allowed to use it, of course, but I don't want to spike their curiosity. All of my brothers have a tendency to put their noses where they don't belong. For some reason, whatever I do always seems to interest them a lot more than it should.

With slightly trembling fingers, I tap the dark screen and it immediately lights up. On the lock screen, I can see that the last message is from Josh, indeed. There are twelve unread messages altogether, but without logging in, I can't tell whether they are all from him or if various people sent them. There are also three missed calls, one of which must be the one from Will that I ignored earlier.

Before I can get too far into my head and manipulate my own actions, as I often do by overthinking stuff, I klick on the messenger app and stare at the unread texts.

3 are from Josh.

1 is from Sean.

7 from Will.

And 1 from Tom.

I exhale audibly at the sight of this. It literally springs out to me like a neon sign containing a huge warning. It is hard to calm my nerves. As much as I am not ready to talk to any of my brothers who I have not yet seen since our family got ripped apart by the latest tragedy, I am even less prepared to be confronted by Tom.

FBI agent Tom Sullivan.

This may be completely unfair to him, but I can't help feeling this way about him. The betrayal, not only by my brothers but by him in particular, goes deep. It is all still very new to me and I need to wrap my head around these new developments properly before I can start dealing with whatever it even means.

Feeling that it might be the safest option for now, I klick on Sean's message first.

Sean – Hope everything went well with those cops. Love u! xxx

He added all kinds of emojis at the end that he probably thinks are somehow related to the police or an investigation, from the looks of it. At the very end, he put the smiley that offers a cuddle. Despite not feeling like it at all, I can't help letting a small smile burst onto my lips at Sean being so genuinely nice. This is very typical for him.

I don't think he knows that I have found out about Tom. Glancing at the time when he sent the message, I notice that it was sent more than an hour ago. He couldn't have known by then, even if Jordan and Alex started to warn their brothers that things have been revealed that clearly weren't meant to get out just yet – maybe never.

I am glad that his message isn't pretend-joyful and that Sean isn't actively lying to me by acting like nothing happened. I was still right in the middle of giving my statement when he messaged me.

Next, I click on Will's messages, deciding that I owe him at least that, seeing as he has not been lying to me, either. Instead, he has tried to help me uncover some of the truth. Also, ever since he covered for us after we met with Kolinsky, that drug dealer acquaintance of his, I feel pretty loyal to him. It's like we now have a bit of a dark past in common. It makes me feel strangely connected to Will, although he would surely laugh right in my face if I ever were to mention this to him.

The top message is written in all capitals, making it very clear that Will is practically yelling at me through a text message. I quickly scroll down without reading it, navigating to the start of this very one-sided "conversation". My sight suddenly gets clouded by tears even before I have started to read any of his words. I angrily wipe my eyes, not caring if Jordan or Alex notice what I am doing. Blinking a few times, I try to focus on the blurry letters in front of me.

Will – Gotta talk 2 u asap.

Not even a hello, but that is normal for him. The message was sent at 10:37am. It must have been the reason why my phone buzzed the first time, when I was still sitting in the interrogation room, just about to find out that my soon-to-be brother-in-law is not who I thought he is.

Will – Hey runt, don't ignore me. So rude!

What a Hypocrite.

Ignoring people whenever he feels like it is Will's standard behavior. This second message was sent at 10:42am. My 20-year-old brother is clearly not a very patient person if he has a go at me after only five minutes of not getting a reply.

Will – Answer me, troll!

This was sent at 10:44am, indicating that he is getting more impatient quickly.

Just reading these angry sounding messages makes me feel a bit nauseous. I don't know why, but there is an odd urgency in these few words that doesn't really fit the Will I know. Sure, he can be abrasive, even arrogant at times, and yell at us – as he showed when he caught us after the Kolinsky incident – but normally he is rather composed, if not indifferent and kind of detached. This is very weird.

I also doubt that it is because he might have heard what happened to Sam. Will would never have a go at me via chat message if that were the case. I know that he has a big heart beating somewhere buried under the armor of nonchalance and that hard exterior shell of his. He can be empathic if he wants to be. That's why I believe that he would never yell at me under such circumstances.

Will – Where the hell r u? Tried calling u & ur still ignoring me. PICK UP, FFS!

Sent at 10:51am.

I click on the call history and see that there are two missed calls from him within a minute of each other. They are from 10:48am and 10:49am. That must have been when I was busy escaping from the police station to hide from my brothers. Unsuccessfully so.

The third missed call is also from Will, but that one only came through about fifteen minutes ago. I go back to the chat and quickly read the last three of his messages. The first one is uncharacteristically long for him.

Will – Can't get hold of Jack, either. Where the fuck r u guys? Call me asap when u get this!!!!! Got news from the East Coast. Just on my way back from airport rn. Went there again. U won't believe what I found & WHO was there!!!!

What?!?

I am dumbfounded, staring at the time stamp of this message. He sent it right after the failed two attempts to get hold of me.

What was Will doing on the East Coast, so shortly after his first trip?

When did he even travel there?

And why didn't he tell us before he went?

But the most worrying thing is that he must have found something significant for him to blow up my phone with so many messages and calls. It is so out of character for him that a chill runs down my spine just considering the meaning of all this.

It must be huge news. Maybe even bigger than mine about Tom, although not even my over-imaginative mind can come up with a scenario that is more mind-blowing than Tom working for the FBI.

My fingers tremble even more than earlier when I scroll to read the last two messages.

Will – Got hold of Jack. He told me. I---

This was sent about half an hour ago, at 11:12am.

This must, without doubt, have been right after he found out about Sam. My throat closes up at the desperation that literally oozes from Will's short message. It shows only too clearly how he feels, now that he knows the terrible truth.

Will was speechless. Lost for words, from shock, anger, grief, all of the above, is what I imagine. For him to put that "I---" there, it speaks volumes of how this must have affected him.

I wish I was there with him when he found out. Jack probably has told him over the phone, if Will is still on the way back from the airport, whichever one he was talking about. I assume San Francisco. Maybe he is on a train – although I cannot really picture my bad boy big brother on public transport, to be honest – and had to receive the news stuck in an overcrowded space amongst mountains of luggage, crying babies, screaming toddlers, exhausted parents and chatty old ladies.

Either way, being told such life changing, heart-breaking news on the phone must have been horrible, no matter the circumstances.

Poor Will.

And poor Jack, too, to have been the one to tell him what happened.

Will – Pls doll, b ok. Call me if u can so I know u r. x

At the sight of this last message, tears spill over and drip onto my hands and all over the phone. These heartfelt words from Will mean just as much, if not more to me as all the comforting hugs I received from my other brothers in the past 24 hours together. I know that it is hard for him to show affection, and still he did exactly that with only those few letters typed into a messenger app.

With trembling fingers and barely being able to see because of my blurry vision, I send him a quick reply, feeling like I owe him that after he put so much effort into getting in contact with me.

Me – M'okay, call u soon. xxxxxxx

I probably went a bit overboard on the kisses and the cuddly emojis that I added after that, but he'll just have to deal with it. Because, right now, I would give a lot if I could offer him a big hug – and receive a rare one of his in return. Since that is obviously not an option, he is getting some virtual affection from me instead.

I sniffle to clear my nose that has gone all stuffy from my crying silently. This, of course, immediately alerts the two brothers in the front.

"You okay there, baby?" Jordan inquires.

"Hmm," I mutter unconvincingly, but luckily he lets it go.

Although I don't bother looking up, I can feel his eyes lingering on me for a bit longer, but I successfully ignore him. I don't feel like explaining myself. Neither do I feel like talking.

To distract myself, I decide to finally read Josh's messages. I am not sure yet if I am going to open Tom's, too, so maybe seeing what my second oldest brother has to say will help me make that decision.

I smile a bit when I see just how long his first message is. Luke claims that it is the lawyer in him that doesn't allow Josh to write short texts, or a few successive ones containing only a handful of words, like normal people do. Instead, his messages are often the size of e-mails. Only in our family chat group, he manages to keep it short and to the point. Probably because the others would tease him relentlessly otherwise.

Josh – Hi, Lily. I don't even know where to start... I am so, SO sorry about what happened to Sam and that you had to experience this awful situation. I wish I were there with you. I want to hold you and tell you that everything's going to be okay. And it will be, eventually, I promise. Even if it doesn't look like it right now. I wanted to call you as soon as I heard, but the guys told me to wait until I can see you in person, which probably is for the best. Just know that I will be there for you every step of the way, okay? I love you so very much, sugar. Please always remember that you're not alone and please look after yourself until I see you very soon. Josh x.

My heart grows heavy reading his words. Because I know what Josh has been through in the past, after losing Sienna all these years ago, and how it affected him, I can tell that sending me this message must have been difficult for him.

I want to believe that having Josh by my side will ease some of the pain, but right now, I cannot imagine that the fist squeezing my heart or the lump in my throat or the nauseous feeling in my stomach will ever truly subside, no matter who is helping me. Over the past day, these uncomfortable symptoms have become permanent fixtures in my existence, like a burden that I will from now on always carry with me.

I don't think I'll ever feel light and carefree again.

Scrolling to Josh's next message, the pain in my chest intensifies.

Josh – Just heard what happened at the police station. Please don't be mad at us and give Tom and I a chance to explain. At the risk of sounding like a broken record: I'm incredibly sorry, sugar.

Telling from the time stamp on the message, Alex must have informed Josh right after Jordan followed me when I ran out of the police station. I don't know what to make of this. Of course he would want Josh – and Tom – to know that I found out. But I have grown so suspicious of all their actions recently that I can't quite shake off the feeling that Alex mainly did it so that they could coordinate what they are going to tell me when I demand to know more details. Or which lies to come up with next.

A few minutes after that, Josh sent me the final message, for now.

Josh – Me, again. Just to let you know that Tom and I'll be over later tonight, to talk. I totally understand if we're the last people you want to speak to or see, but I'd still like to get a brief sign from you that you're holding on. Love you, munchkin x.

I fight a small inward battle whether I should acknowledge his messages or let him stew for a bit. But it doesn't take me long to decide that being angry at Josh won't change anything. It will only make a horrible situation worse. Fighting with my brother while we are all mourning the loss of another seems incredibly petty. So, I type a quick reply before I can change my mind.

Me – Thx. We're okay, u & I. Love u Jay-Jay & miss u. xxx

Despite everything, I feel quite proud and a tiny bit satisfied that I reacted so maturely in this confusing situation. Maybe it is true that you grow up quicker if you have to go through something bad. This makes sense to me, now that I am part of such a dreadful experience.

Squeezing my eyes shut, I try to find the courage to open Tom's message, the last one that I have yet to read. Alex is slowing down and turning left. The sound of tires on gravel tells me that we have arrived on the road leading up to our cabin. Which is my cue to come up with a plan to escape my four over-bearing brothers. I need to speak to Will in private. This means Tom's message has to wait.

Alex slows down the car and a minute later it comes to a complete stop. My eyes are still closed and, irrationally, I hope that if I cannot see them, they can't see me, either. Like I used to think when I was little. Or maybe they'll simply forget that I am in the backseat and just leave the car. That way, I could easily slip away and find a quiet spot somewhere in the forest surrounding our cabin to call Will.

"Are you coming?" Jordan's voice cuts through the heavy silence that engulfed us after Alex stopped the engine.

I can literally feel his eyes boring into my head. He must have turned around to look at me. To avoid him reading my mind if our eyes meet, I continue to keep mine closed and my face turned towards my lap. My fingers are squeezing my phone so tightly that it wouldn't surprise me if the screen cracked any moment.

"Baby?"

I startle when suddenly a warm, calloused hand covers mine, squeezing it lightly. I freeze completely and just sit there, not moving a muscle, wishing for Jordan to get the message and leave me alone. To allow me a bit of breathing room before I have to encounter my other siblings in the cabin. I wouldn't know what to say to them after uncovering another one of their growing pile of secrets. And quite frankly, I also don't want to hear what they have to say to me.

"Oh, pumpkin, please don't cry," Jordan says softly.

Is he talking to me?

I am the only one he calls that rather embarrassing nickname, so it must be.

But I'm not crying...

Jordan hooks his fingers around mine and gently tries to pry them off the phone. That is when I suddenly feel wetness on my hand. Confused, I open my eyes and witness how a teardrop lands on the phone screen, right on the spot my brother has successfully managed to remove my fingers from.

I am crying – again.

Desperation takes hold of me when I realize this. I must be losing it, slowly but surely, if I don't even notice anymore when tears start leaking out of my eyes. Gathering enough strength, I pull my hands from Jordan's grip and shuffle to the side, hoping to move out of his reach.

Still not looking up, I watch as he coils his fingers around air and then stops his movements, as if he is uncertain what to do next. Eventually, he stretches his arm out a bit further and my breath hitches in my throat, fearing that he is going to continue what he started. But instead, he just pats my knee a couple of times, signaling understanding.

"We'll be inside. Take your time," he says very quietly.

It feels like he has been reading my mind, despite my efforts to keep my tumultuous emotions from him, and that he figured out correctly what I need right now. I don't think he knows how much I appreciate this, so I finally look up and give him a small, grateful smile. Jordan returns it with one of his own and he nods almost invisibly. He reaches out once more and cups my cheek to wipe away the remaining tears.

"What's keeping you guys?" Alex asks, sounding kind of far away.

I haven't even noticed him getting out of the car. The passenger side door is still open, indicating that Jordan must also have been about to get out before he changed his mind and turned back to check on me.

My oldest brother sounds tired and unenthusiastic, not that I can blame him, of course.

"Coming," Jordan replies.

He gives me one more understanding look and then quickly climbs out of the car, shutting the door behind him, leaving me in complete silence. I stare at the space he just vacated, still a bit overwhelmed by the empathy he showed me.

"Lily?" Alex's voice sounds muffled, now that both car doors are closed.

"Leave her be. She needs a few minutes," I hear Jordan say.

"I don't think that's a good idea..."

"Stop it, Alex. She's fine."

"But..."

"Alex, she needs a minute," Jordan repeats. "We owe her that much, don't ya think? Nothing's gonna happen to her, man, you know that."

Something about the way Jordan says this confuses me. I can't tell whether he means that I'll be okay to deal with the pain and grief on my own for a few minutes – or that nothing's going happen to me in the literal sense. I overheard them more than once recently, stating that they are worried that someone could harm me. And now that I have witnessed what happened to Sam...

I swallow hard and shake my head to get rid of these painful thoughts. I cannot allow myself to think like this and become as paranoid as my brothers. Although I am convinced that Sam's accident wasn't an accident at all – otherwise, talking to the police would have been pretty pointless – I also don't think that I am in any danger. I simply refuse to believe that this is even a possibility.

The sound of a door being slammed shut brings me out of my thoughts. Looking around, I notice that my brothers are gone and that I am now alone outside the house.

Finally. And now, what do I do?

I lean forward a bit to get a better view of the front porch and the door of the cabin. I wouldn't put it past the guys to keep a close eye on me. And I certainly don't need them to follow me into the woods, or even worse, listen to my phone call with Will.

It doesn't look like one of them is behind the window by the front door, watching me, but I can't tell for sure. I just have to hope that they have enough decency to give me the space Jordan claimed I needed. All I can do is go for it and keep my guard up to react appropriately in case they do follow me around.

Before I can change my mind, I open the door and quickly slip out of the car. I hurry around the back of it, all the while casting glances at the front door. For some reason, I expect Alex to burst out of the cabin any moment to question me about where I am going. But the door remains closed. Not wanting to push my luck, I break out into a jog and, a few yards later, I am on one of the many dirt paths that are leading into the forest from all over our property.

I know this area of the woods like the back of my hand. When we were younger, Noah, Aidan and I used to spend practically all day outside whenever we came here on vacation and weren't doing any other sort of activity with our siblings. We played hide and seek, organized scavenger hunts, climbed on trees, had epic snowball fights and built "secret" huts and hiding places all over the vast forest surrounding the cabin. There are no immediate neighbors in the vicinity. I don't even know how far it is to the next cabin, but it must be a few miles, at least.

Hurrying along the overgrown path, I have to remind myself not to go too far. It is not my intention to worry my already paranoid brothers even further. Also, I don't want to get lost, which unfortunately is something that has happened before around here, whenever we went too far away from the cabin. My sense of direction has never been very good and my family knows that only too well.

One time, Noah – who is just as bad at directions as I am – and I got so lost when playing cops and robbers with Aidan and Jack that it took our brothers three hours to find us. Josh and Ben, who were in charge then because Alex had to stay back for work reasons, were completely beside themselves with worry and for the rest of our vacation, we were not allowed to leave their sight.

Remembering this, and knowing what I do now, I wonder if part of their panic when they couldn't find us had anything to do with that ominous fear of theirs that someone might try to hurt us. Although this was almost 4 years ago – Noah was eleven and I had just turned nine – I still feel bad only thinking about it.

Anyway, the goal right now is to put a safe distance between me and any potential eavesdroppers. Normally, the roles are reversed and the others try to get away from my unhealthy habit of overhearing things that are not meant for me. Being in their shoes for a change, I realize just how annoying it is if you have to make sure that nobody listens in on your private conversations, be it intentionally or accidently.

Looking around, I believe that there must be one of our old hiding places somewhere nearby. If I went in the right direction, which I think I did, I must be maybe a hundred and fifty yards away from the cabin. When I spot a small, swamp-like little pond, I know that I am exactly where I thought I am and I feel a tiny bit victorious.

We used to come here to dig around in the murky waters with wooden sticks and sometimes, when we felt brave, we even ventured in barefoot. I never really liked stalking around in the slimy pond, not knowing what you will end up stepping on. But because I didn't want the boys to make fun of me for being a wimp, I'd always try to find the courage to do just as they did, even if it almost made me puke because it was so gross.

These memories make me smile a bit. It feels like such a long time ago. Lately, whenever we come here, we haven't really gone exploring in the woods anymore. The twins seem to think that they are too old and too cool now to go on childish adventures. I think Noah would still sometimes like to do this kind of stuff with me but he holds himself back to not get teased by Aidan.

I almost drop the phone that I am still clutching tightly in my hand when it suddenly starts to vibrate. Holding it up so that I can look at the screen, my heartbeat instantly increases.

It is Will. Again.

And he is not simply replying to my earlier text. He is actually calling me.

Although the only reason why I ventured into the forest was to talk to him, I feel nervous and also slightly nauseous at the thought of speaking to him right now. I am not prepared to talk to any additional family members about what happened, to be honest. But I know that if I don't pick up, he will just try again until I either turn off the phone or give in. Also, I believe that he has some important news, otherwise he wouldn't have been trying to contact me so many times before he even learned about Sam.

Plucking up the courage, I hold my breath and swiped my thumb over the screen, accepting the call.

"Lily?" Will asks gruffly.

Instantly, tears shoot into my eyes at the sound of his voice, although it seems to be very far away. My hand starts to tremble almost uncontrollably and I need three attempts until I finally manage to click on the loudspeaker symbol.

"Lily? Are you there?" he calls, startling me because it is now so much more audible.

"W-Will," I stammer awkwardly, feeling at a complete loss about how to react.

What is the appropriate reaction if you talk to your sibling for the first time after losing another one of your siblings?

"Oh, thank god," Will breathes out, relief evident in his voice. "You okay?"

The tears that have been pooling in my eyes decide to escape and they are now steadily running down my cheeks. I don't even try to wipe them off because I know that they aren't going to stop anytime soon.

How long does it take for a person until they're all cried out?

"Hey, you still there?"

I am completely unable to form proper thoughts, let alone get any coherent words out. My mind is once again a jumbled mess and I feel almost paralyzed. All I manage when Will asks once more if I am there and okay, sounding uncharacteristically caring, is a strangled sob.

"Let me see your face," he demands.

No way!

I am not going to show him my tears-streaked face. I don't need him to think of me as a crybaby, as the weak little girl that cannot even handle a simple phone call with her older brother.

"Turn on the camera, Lily" Will instructs firmly when I don't react, leaving no room for argument.

I have no fight or willpower left in me, so like on auto-pilot, I comply. Simultaneously, I drop onto the ground that is covered in dried up leaves and slump my back against a random tree that is right behind me.

"Hi there, doll," my brother says when the tiny rectangle shows up on the bottom right of my screen, indicating that I have successfully activated my camera.

He still sounds soft and caring. As if he fears that I will fall to pieces if he is too rough with me. Which could actually happen, because I feel like anything could push me over the edge right now and break me forever.

It is only then that I notice that the main part of the screen remains black. Will doesn't seem to be returning the favor, using the camera function.

"Y-you... you gotta... you, t-too," I press out miserably, waving my hand at the phone screen.

"I'm pretty sure you don't want to see my ugly mug, runt," he declares breezily.

Oh, Will, that's where you're very, very wrong!

Now that I have him on the line, I want nothing more than to see him. If I cannot be near him physically, I at least want to be able to look at Will. It should calm me down to see his chiseled features and that trademark smirk slash scowl.

"Please," I whisper kind of desperately.

I hear him mutter some choice words under his breath and that also helps me relax a bit. Despite the awkward and awful situation, he apparently is still the old Will, a bit rough around the edges and generally pretty grumpy, even more so if things don't go his way. Through my tears, I smile a little at that.

Finally, Will's face flashes onto the screen. I can only just about make out his features. He seems to be sitting somewhere in the shadow seeing as the light is really bad. What I do see rather clearly, however, is the glow of the end of the cigarette as he pulls on it while we just wordlessly stare at each other.

"Happy now?" he eventually grunts when the silence starts to get a bit awkward.

All I can do is nod because the lump in my throat grew twice in size the moment I made eye contact with Will. Seeing him feels so familiar and also strangely comfortable. Although, in everyday life, we are still not spending a lot of time together, I have felt a very strong bond with my 20-year-old brother ever since our trip to Chicago. Not to forget that he has become a vital part in our "investigation". That has brought us even closer together.

I blink rapidly to get rid of the tears that are still clouding my eyes, making his already bad quality image even more blurry.

"Why're ya crying?"

This only opens the floodgates further. There are too many answers to this simple question.

"I know that I wouldn't win a beauty contest, runt, but crying is taking it a bit far, don'tcha think?" he attempts to joke but I can't even bring myself to laugh at his rare self-deprecation.

I know that I need to get a grip, and quickly, so I frantically start to wipe my cheeks and rub my eyes with my free hand, willing my tears to stop.

"Argh, doll, don't do this to me. You know I'm horrible when it comes to comforting people if they cry. Crying little sisters are even worse. – What can I do, huh?" His question seems genuine enough.

This actually makes my heart grow a bit lighter because it is kind of surprising, coming from him. I know from growing up around Will that he is the last person you'd go to if you wanted someone to comfort you. He despises anything to do with emotional situations. He has always made that very clear.

I have often wondered why he is so closed off when it comes to these things. But with what I have learned over the past few months, about his and Jack's lives before they came to live with the rest of our brothers, it now makes more sense to me that he keeps his own feelings so guarded. Maybe that is the reason why it is a bit more difficult for him to be empathic with other people and their emotions. Not everybody can be like Sean, I know that.

"I... you know that I... that I spoke to Jack earlier, right? He... told me what happened. Do you... umm... want to talk about that?"

My heart grows heavier again as I watch him struggle to get these words out. This must be the first time in my life that I witness Will fighting to form a sentence. It is like he is treading on egg shells around me, worried to say the wrong thing that would set me off.

Or maybe he fears that his own emotions will show?

In reply to his offer, I shake my head no. Although for the past 24 hours, Sam's accident has been constantly at the forefront of my mind, I don't want to talk about it with him. Preferably, I wouldn't want to talk about this with anyone for a long time to come. I wish I could just forget it ever happened and shove any memories of it to the very back of my mind to lock away for eternity.

"Good... that's good. I mean, no, it's not good. It's a fucking tragedy, what happened, and... and... damn it! Anyway...," he clears his throat before continuing: "Anyway, I don't even know what to say about it. But I won't lie to you. I'm glad that you don't want to talk about it, because... well, ya know," Will rambles, which once again is completely out of character for him.

It is very clear to me that he is struggling to wrap his head around Sam's death and I can totally relate to that. I know how difficult it is to talk about what happened, so I understand why he is relieved that I don't want to talk. I guess we are on the same wavelength here.

"It's okay," I assure him.

"No, it's not okay, runt! And we both know it. This whole fucking shit shouldn't have happened and we shouldn't be in this position. – But, as I was saying, I'm glad if we can just not talk about it. Just... just know that you can always come to me if you need someone to talk to, okay? I might be shit at it, so I warn you already because I don't want to get any complaints later, if you should want to talk eventually. But I'll be there for ya, got it?"

"Thank you, Will, I appreciate it," I tell him sincerely. "And the same goes for you."

He gives me a look that says it all so I quickly add: "Just saying."

"Yeah, forget about that," he dismisses me. "I'm not gonna unload all my emotional baggage on my baby sis and you know that. So, shut up about it."

I cannot shake the feeling that his reaction only serves for him to save face and protect his bad boy reputation. This, finally, is typical Will behavior and I am glad to see that he is slowly getting back to his old ways. Even if I like when he shows his caring side, it freaks me out when he doesn't act like himself. One of the reasons why I like his company and our conversations is that he doesn't mince his words around me and that he is a straight-talker.

"Sure, okay," I placate him.

I don't know what it is, but now that we have been talking for a few minutes, some of the weight on my shoulders has been lifted. Will might not realize it, but his communication style and simply he, as a person, is exactly the kind of distraction I need.

"How's Jack?" I ask.

This was a spur of the moment question, coming completely out of nowhere. It startles me that it even came out of my mouth. I instantly worry that I should not have asked that. Jack is Will's biggest soft spot and he usually reacts very protective whenever his younger brother is the topic of conversation.

"The kid's a mess," Will states bluntly.

He doesn't need to say anymore. I can easily imagine how overwhelmed my third youngest brother is and it breaks my heart only thinking about it. All of us are overwhelmed, of course, but Jack, just like Noah, is a sensitive soul. That's what Sean calls it. Losing a family member must have hit him hard – maybe harder than others. Harder than those that are used to it, even if this is a horrible thing to even think about. I can relate to Jack and his feelings only too well. But I also don't think it will do this conversation any good if we dwell on it much longer, so I quickly move on to the next pressing issue.

"Why were you on the East Coast again?"

A cynical, almost proud smirk flashes across Will's face, signaling that he is okay that I am getting straight to the point. He hates people who beat around the bush, I have learned that when we were on the run to Chicago last year.

"There were some, well, some inconsistencies with the stuff we found, my buddy and I, when I was there the first time, so he kept digging and felt it were best if I made another trip there. Turns out he was spot on with that," my brother replies somewhat mysteriously.

I shoot up from my slumped down position leaning against the tree trunk and stare expectantly at the phone screen.

What does he mean, inconsistencies?

He just wordlessly looks back at me, puffing on his cigarette as if he had no care in the world, making me nervous. It is pretty hard to read Will, harder than most of my brothers – and according to them I am the easiest person in the whole family to read, like, from a mile away – but when I can barely make out his features, it is near impossible.

Why isn't he saying anything more?

"Do you have to smoke?"

Yeah, that is totally not what I wanted to ask him, but for some reason my mouth decided that this is what I am saying next. I start to wriggle my toes inside my worn out Converses, something I do when I get antsy. If I were sitting on a chair, I'd probably bounce my knee, too, a bad habit I must have picked up from Noah, who does it all the time, much to everybody's annoyance.

"Seriously, runt?" Will asks, giving me a bored look and pulling on the offensive item just to rile me.

"It's not good for you."

"Oh, this is very good for me, trust me, babe. Relaxes me like almost nothing else can... well, other than sex, of course. But I probably shouldn't be talking to my baby sister about that kind of adult stuff. Your innocent ears may start bleeding if I tell you about that one time with Penelope and Rachel..."

"Will!" I interrupt him, simultaneously mortified and offended.

Mortified, because I wouldn't put it past my most notorious brother to tell me about his sexual adventures in great detail just to see me squirm – and offended that he still seems to think of me as a baby that doesn't even know how to spell sex.

"Just sayin'."

"Well, don't. And you're lying to yourself if you think smoking is healthy," I add, just to validate my side of the argument.

This conversation is ridiculous, to say the least, since there are more important matters to discuss. But it is also comforting to have some pointless banter with Will. For a few moments, it feels as if our world hadn't been turned upside down by recent events. It helps my busy mind to calm down and it's something I cherish right now.

"There are places on this planet where this stuff is declared medicine, Little Miss Wiseass," he claims.

Where on earth would... oh.

My eyes must be incredibly wide as I stare at Will while I process his words, causing him to laugh at my expression.

And I thought he was done playing around with drugs?

I have to fight an inner battle not to call him out and remind him that we had a deal. At least that's what it was to me: he would stop with the drugs and in return I wouldn't tell Alex what I found in the shed last autumn. However, I think he really only promised me that he wasn't selling that stuff anymore. He never promised me he'd stop using it.

"Are you going to tell me what these inconsistencies are?" I decide to change the topic.

There is no telling when Will is going to get bored of this conversation and just cuts the call. It has happened before, so it wouldn't really surprise me. However, this is probably the first time that he is calling me and using a camera. Maybe if he has to look at me, it won't be that easy for him to just press disconnect.

"I thought you'd never ask me, darling," Will replies in an exaggeratedly husky voice and if I am not mistaken, he is even batting his eyelids at me.

His impression of a character who is waiting for their beloved partner to ask the one important question is so bad that I am torn between laughing and crying. Smoking marihuana must be messing with his mind and his mood. I don't think I have ever knowingly been around him when he was on something. Or maybe I just wasn't aware of it and never noticed.

"I don't think this is the time to be joking," I scold him.

"We're literally up shit creek without a paddle and life's a fucking bitch, more so than normal, so forgive me if I don't agree."

I instantly feel bad for berating him. This is clearly a difficult time for all of us. I have Sean's voice in my ear that reminds me that everybody deals with pain differently. I remember asking him how he ever managed to go on after losing Sienna and that is when he told me that. He tried to make me understand – no, he tried to make me believe – that while the death of a loved one is a horrendous experience, there is always a way forward if only you choose to see it. And to take it.

Maybe smoking weed, using offensive language and being sarcastic is Will's way of dealing with his loss.

"Ok," I reply when he still hasn't said anything else even after we were quiet for a few minutes.

"So, you wanna know what I found?" he asks gruffly.

I nod. My toes are still wiggling nervously and I notice that my palms are a bit sweaty, too.

"Alright, here goes nothing. Just know that it was not my intention to only tell you this. I meant to wait until we all got back together, but then the terrible twins are at camp and will be gone for a bit longer..."

"...Ben is picking them up as we speak," I tell him because I think he needs to know.

He just looks at me for a moment, his expression strangely lost. Then something seems to occur to him and instantly, it turns back into a somewhat stony façade. At least from what I can tell, since I still can't see him very clearly.

"Right... umm... anyway, when I couldn't get hold of you and talked to Jack, I told him what I found, so he's in the loop already. Not sure though how much he really processed, seeing as he was completely beside himself."

Oh, Jack.

My heart aches just thinking about my brother. I can't wait to give him a big hug when I see him. I am in two minds about reuniting with the rest of my family, but Jack is one of the people that I don't mind seeing. He won't pry and he won't treat me with kids' gloves because of what I witnessed. He won't be shoving his own emotions aside and using me as an excuse for that, as I can already tell from our few interactions is something Jordan and Alex are doing.

I am very afraid to see Ben, Aidan and Noah though. Ben, because he and Sam were so close not only in age but also as brothers. Noah, because he will be devastated to have lost his rolemodel and I fear that I won't be able to give him the support he needs. And Aidan, because he is a black box and I can't even start to imagine what his reaction will be like.

As for Josh, that is an encounter that I am dreading and looking forward to at the same time. Part of me is dreading it because I fear that he is going to break under the burden of having lost another sibling. And the other part can't wait for him to pull me into an embrace and give me all the safety, reassurance and comfort that comes with being in my second oldest brother's arms.

And then there is Tom. I am absolutely terrified of seeing him, but for different reasons. That is the one encounter that I hope I can postpone for as long as possible. But since he has already reached out to me by text message – the one that I still need to read – I guess my wish won't be granted.

"Yo, runt, you still there?" Will calls, interrupting my busy thought process.

"Sorry," I mutter, forcing myself to focus on this phone call.

"Stop spacing out or I'm hanging up."

At least he is announcing it and not simply doing it. That is an improvement.

"Sorry," I repeat sheepishly.

"Turns out, I was not the only one snooping around at the East Coast. You'd never guess who I almost ran into out there," Will reveals.

All my nerve ends are tingling with anticipation and I almost jump through the phone at him when his dramatic pause doesn't seem to end. He already announced in one of his text messages that he saw someone. I want to know who, since he is making such a big deal out of it.

"Who?" I eventually breathe out, since he apparently needs a cue to continue.

"Come on, take a wild guess."

"Will!" I snap at him, not appreciating his taunting me for no reason other than to upset me.

"Okay, okay, no more games, I gotcha." He pauses again, making me want to jump out of my skin because I can hardly bear the tension that is building inside of me. "The world's cutest, most sickeningly in love couple: our dear lawyer brother and his marketing fiancé."

My head painfully connects with the tree behind me when his revelation almost knocks me over. My stomach drops and my legs turn to jelly. I am glad I am already sitting down because I think I would have fallen over from shock.

Josh and Tom were on the East Coast?

I frantically try to control my breathing as I know I need a somewhat clear mind to figure out what this means. There is probably a very good explanation for it. Yes, I am sure that there has to be one. It must be a coincidence...

"Maybe they went to visit Sienna's grave?" I suggest, my voice trembling.

That must be it. For sure. Sean and Alex were there only a bit more than a week ago, too. Maybe that inspired Josh to do the same. He did say that he and Tom would go on a trip together. Tom probably agreed because now that the Sienna thing is no longer a secret, it also changed Josh's view on all that. It must have been overdue that he travelled there.

"That's random," Will comments, narrowing his eyes at me through the screen.

"It's not. Sean and Alex went there only about two weeks ago. On Sean's birthday."

"What? And you only think to tell me about this now?"

"It must have slipped my mind," I claim.

"Sure. It'd been freakin' helpful to know that kinda stuff. It..."

"...it could've helped us figure out if we are even looking in the right place, correct?" I interrupt him, my rookie detective senses suddenly going into overdrive.

"Not what I was going to say, runt, but yeah, back then, it might have been useful information. But..."

"Maybe we can..."

"Shhh, shut up for a moment, will ya? And stop interrupting me. It's rude." He glares at me through the screen and I nod obediently, wanting him to continue. "Anyway, as I was saying, that's not necessary anymore. We have found the place where our family used to live. And before you ask – no, I don't think that the two love birds went to our dead sister's grave. The location where our path almost crossed was at the local police station. Go figure. They were either there to snoop around, too – or to try and cover their tracks because they got wind of what we've been up to."

I shriek involuntarily at Will's suggestion and slap a hand over my mouth to keep any more of these sounds from coming out.

How could they have found out what we've been doing?

"Relax, I don't think they found out."

"H-how would you know?" I whisper.

Anxiety is cursing through my body at lighting speed, making it near impossible for me to form even one coherent thought. I don't even want to consider what it would mean if they found out that we have been looking into our family's history after they have explicitly told us to stay away from any such actions.

"I don't, not for sure. But something tells me that if they knew, they'd have let us know," Will reassures me.

The thought of having to deal with their reaction if or when they really find out is anything but reassuring.

"But what with Sam and all...," I start but stop myself because I don't want to think about that, either.

"Even with the Sam fiasco, they'd have let us know. I am 100% certain that they didn't see me."

"What about your... that buddy of yours out there? The one who's been helping you?"

"Don't worry your pretty little head about that guy. It's safe."

"How would you know?"

"I just do. You gotta trust me on that."

Trust is a big word, and one that has been taken a lot of abuse lately, in our family. But I am way too exhausted from the happenings and revelations of today to argue with Will on this. It is only early afternoon and I am so done with the day already.

"Tom's not in marketing, by the way," I decide to share some of my burden with Will in return.

"Whaddya mean?"

"He's an FBI agent."

Any other time, it would have been funny to watch as Will opened his mouth like a fish and the cigarette he had just pulled on fell out of it. He jumps up, causing the phone screen to shake uncontrollable as the image is being distorted. I can hear him curse in the background and assume that the cigarette landed on his leg, probably giving him a burn.

A few seconds later, he is back. This time, he is less in the shadows, allowing me to get a better view of his face. Although the quality of the image is still bad, I think Will looks very pale. I watch as he swallows hard and then demands for me to give him the full story. I comply, glad to share this knowledge with someone else who was just as clueless as me about Tom's true identity.

"Holy fucking shit, times a million. Damn it, this is messed up. I mean, why keep this from us?" He pauses and then his expression suddenly turns dark.

"Actually, never mind. I have a pretty good fucking clue why that is. Because they have been keeping way more from us than just the profession of a person outside the family," Will says mysteriously.

This instantly piques my interest.

What else did he find out on the East Coast, now that he knows their home town?

"What is it, Will? Stop procrastinating!"

"I didn't plan on telling you this without the others around. But fuck, if what you just told me isn't a game changer, I don't know what is. I may regret telling you this without the others, so you have to fuckin' swear not to let on that you know this, at least until we're all together and can confront them with the information. Got it?"

If Will were right in front of me, in person, instead of behind a phone screen, I think I would have peed my pants at the intensely threatening look he is giving me. All I can do is nod in confirmation.

"Our family name has not always been Taylor."

A/N - Hi guys, I'm back. Sorry for keeping you waiting forever for this next chapter. I've been so incredibly busy these past weeks that I simply didn't find the necessary time to sit down and write. That was the one positive thing about COVID: hardly any social life and therefore tons of time to work on this story.

For all you patient readers, I hope this pretty long chapter makes up for it. Do you think Will is onto something, or is that false information? And what was our soon-to-be-married couple doing on the East Coast? How will Lily deal with seeing the rest of her family? Will she confront Tom? Most of this next time... Take care!