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Marnie is still standing beside the table. Her gaze moves between us, and for all her usual curiosity, she says nothing. She simply takes the coffeepot and hurries away.

Reid doesn’t move closer. He studies me, relief replacing shock as he takes in my white hair, scars, and the extra height and width I’ve gained since he last saw me.

Is he trying to find the brother he remembers beneath it all?

He lets out a breath that might have been a laugh in another life. “Hewit,” he repeats, as if he still doesn’t quite believe I’m real.

For a second, neither of us moves.

Then he slowly comes closer. “You’re really here,” he says quietly.

The wolf surges at the familiar scent of him as he sits opposite me.

I wrap my hand around the coffee mug. “You shouldn’t be here.”

Reid settles against the booth, but I see the flicker of hurt before he hides it. Whatever reaction he imagined after all this time, this clearly wasn’t it.

His eyes narrow on mine. “I’ve spent years wondering if my brother was dead.” He pauses. “I heard you scream that night.”

My throat closes as the diner falls away. I’m back at the Halloween gathering with a plastic cup in my hand and music pounding through the square.

Then the fever hits. Bones crack. My skin feels too tight. Somewhere through the pain, Reid is shouting my name, but soon even his voice disappears beneath it.

I shove the memory down. “Don’t.”

“I woke up, and you were gone. I called for you until I couldn’t speak.”

My chair scrapes against the floor as I stand. Several people glance over, but I don’t care.

Reid stays seated. “Why didn’t you tell me where you were?”

The pain in his question stops me more effectively than if he’d grabbed me.

Reid didn’t fail to find me. I succeeded at disappearing.

“That’s the way I wanted it.”

Reid flinches before his expression hardens. “I looked for you. For fucking years. And you were here the whole time.” His eyes close briefly. When he opens them again, his expression is raw with pain. “Jesus, Hewit. Why?”

I look down at the table. “Because I couldn’t control it.”

Reid goes still.

“The wolf,” I add, though even saying it that way feels less certain than it used to. “Every shift hurt. Every time someone got too close, I thought I was going to lose control. I didn’t know what I was anymore, and I sure as hell didn’t know how to be around you without making it your problem too.”

Reid looks at me for a long moment. “So you disappeared. And never called.”

My jaw tightens. “I thought you were better off.”

His expression says exactly what he thinks of that. “I wasn’t.”

I sit because suddenly standing feels like too much effort.

The diner continues around us. Plates clatter in the kitchen. Someone laughs near the counter. The coffee machine hisses.

Reid exhales through his nose and leans back slightly. “I was driving Scarlett to see Karloff when I caught your scent halfway down Nightjar Row.”

I look up. “Scarlett?”