Page 43 of When We Were Young

“Is that⁠—”

“Yes. Now let me go. I need to talk to her.”

I try to free myself from his grip.

Before I can, Georgie appears in front of me. Her face is bright red. She pokes me in the chest. Hard.

“What the hell was that about, H?”

“Ouch. That hurt, Georgie.” I rub the sore spot.

“Yeah? Well, you’re about to hurt a lot more if you don’t tell me why you just treated Lizzie like that.”

“I... I, uh...”

A cackle erupts from the corner. Ruthie.

I glance over and find her coloring with Layla and Lena. Lena is completely oblivious. Layla is not. She’s staring at me with narrowed eyes. I wonder how I missed them sitting there, but honestly, it’s no surprise. I couldn’t focus on anything except Lizette.

Ruthie pushes herself up from the floor. Layla takes her hand. Together they stalk toward me.

My pulse quickens. There may be decades between their ages, but those two are a formidable pair.

“Well, Georgie,” Ruthie says, never taking her eyes off me, “looks to me like it’s about another Aron boy being hell-bent on doing things the hard way.”

“What does that even mean? No, I’m not. And doing what?” Ugh. They’re all messing with my head.

“Screw this. I’m going to find her and make sure she’s okay,” Georgie says.

“No, you’re not, Georgina. I’m going.” Ruthie’s declaration surprises everyone.

Georgie plants a hand on her hip. “I’m going. She’s my friend. She barely knows you.”

“She’s all of ours now, young lady. That’s how it works.” Ruthie points toward the walls. “Now get your sassy ass painting. All of you. While I go fix what Casanova here messed up.”

Just like that, Ruthie disappears down the stairs.

One by one, everyone returns to painting. Even Georgie. Though she huffs dramatically while doing it. Lena goes back to coloring.

But Layla remains planted directly in front of me. She’s standing stock-still, head tilted, eyes boring into mine. The silence is unusual. And frankly, it’s freaking me out.

“Ladybug, why are you looking at me like that? Say something.” Get it together, man. She’s six. How bad can it be?

“I don’t want to embarrass you, Uncle Holden, but that was cringe.”

Laughter erupts throughout the room. I look up to find several family members openly watching us. Only Delaney and Tillie continue painting. However, Tillie is definitely smirking.

Layla puts her hands on her hips. “You’re almost as bad as Uncle Harry was when he first got in love with Delaney.”

Even Harrison laughs. Hayden—who rarely smiles these days—is grinning. Everyone is.

Except Georgie. And me.

I’m so shocked that I choke on my own saliva. A second later, someone tugs on my pant leg. I glance down.

Lena stands there with her arms raised. “Up, Unca Hoden.”

When I lift her into my arms, she pats my back with her chubby hand. After my coughing subsides, she rests her head on my shoulder.