Page 15

She turned around with a wide smile as Jordan pulled her into a hug. “Hey, Mom.” This was a woman who loved her son and was genuinely happy to see him.

“He brought us a surprise,” Greg added, his voice cautious.

That got her attention and she finally looked beyond him.

The transformation was immediate. And brutal.

Her smile didn’t just fade. It collapsed. Like someone had reached inside her and ripped out whatever joy had been there moments before. Her face went pale, then tight, her eyes filling with pain. No, more than pain. Anguish.

It was worse than Greg’s reaction at the airport. So much worse.

Greg had looked away from Sam like it hurt to see her. Sam’s mom looked at her daughter like seeing her was a wound being torn open all over again.

“Samantha.” Her voice came out flat. Hollow. “I didn’t realize you were coming.”

Sam held herself tall, but I had no doubt it took everything she had for her to accomplish it. I moved closer to her, placing my hand against the base of her back, my silent way of telling her—reminding her—she wasn’t facing this alone. I didn’t need to know what this was to know she needed me.

“Jordan brought me,” Sam said quietly. “I thought you knew.”

Her mom’s jaw tightened. She shot a look at Jordan—sharp and accusatory—before smoothing her expression into one that was probably supposed to be neutral but landed closer to cold.

“Well.” She stepped back, not quite meeting Sam’s eyes. “You’re here now. Come in.”

No hug. No it’s good to see you. No warmth at all. Certainly none of the warmth her brother had gotten.

Sam’s dad cleared his throat. “Gordy, this is my wife, Sally. Sally, this is Sam’s boyfriend, Harrison Gordon.”

“Everyone calls me Gordy,” I added.

Sally gave me a stiff smile. “Nice to meet you.” I suspected there wasn’t an ounce of her that actually thought it was nice to meet me at all.

Now that she was facing us, I could see the resemblance. She had Sam’s blonde hair, though hers was shorter and threaded with gray, and there were deep lines around her eyes that spoke of years of grief.

Without another word, Sam walked past her mother into the house, and I followed close behind, my hand still on the small of her back. She was trembling, but her mask was perfectly in place—not the same one she’d clearly worn in Montana, but a new one that kept her standing tall.

We rounded the corner toward the stairs and nearly bumped into another person.

“Sam?”

He was taller than she was and had an athletic build. His hair was also blond like everyone else’s, but his eyes were a deeper blue than Sam’s. This must be another brother. She once said she had three.

“Sam, it’s really you.”

Before she could speak, he’d wrapped her up in a tight hug, his eyes closed and relief filling his face.

Her parents might not be happy to see her, but it was clear her brothers wanted her here.

Sam was stiff for a moment before her arms wrapped around his waist and she seemed to melt into the hug. “Hey, Eric.”

“I’ve fucking missed you.”

She huffed out a laugh and for that alone, I liked him. He was the first one to make her smile since we got on the plane. “Don’t let Mom hear you swear.”

He pulled away just enough to look at her again, as if to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating. “God, it’s good to see you.”

She looked down at the floor. “You might be the only one who thinks so.”

His gaze moved from her to me to where we’d just come from, and his jaw clenched. Then he focused back on Sam.