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That only made it worse. Tears spilled down my cheeks. I didn’t bother to fight it or try to restrain myself. I couldn’t. My brother stood in the gap for me. The tears flowed hot and fast. I lowered my head and laughed through them.

It was a ridiculous sound. Half broken. Half relieved. The ache I’d carried since arriving at the castle loosened all at once. I could breathe again. The image of eighteen-year-old Sebastian flashed through my mind.

The boy who blamed himself for my disappearance. The boy who spent years trying to make up for that one moment in time. It had never been his fault. He only ever wanted to protect me. And this was his way of showing up.

This was him helping me carry the pieces. For in many ways they belonged to him too. I felt awful for having doubted him.

“Why?” I whispered. The question slipped out before I could stop it.

A soft laugh sounded through the phone. “Because you’re my sissy, brat.”

Fresh tears rolled down my cheeks. I pressed my palm against my eyes. The simple truth of his love, pure and uncomplicated, undid me.

“And you don’t have to carry this alone. Not any more.”

“You… really bought it?” I asked, my voice not quite as steady as I wanted it to be.

“Yup. It’s yours. Do whatever the hell you want with it.”

My throat tightened. “I’m sorry. For snapping at you. I just—”

“I know,” he cut in. “You don’t have to explain it to me. I’m your brother and I will always try to support you. Even if I don’t understand it.” A breath passed between us. Then, in a softer tone, he said, “I love you.”

My eyes burned with more tears. I let those bitches course down my checks, unchecked. More sobs ripped from my throat.

“I love you, too.”

“And for the record, if you decide to tear that place down, I’m taking a swing at it first.”

A small, surprised laugh slipped out of me before I could stop it. “Deal.”

There was a pause, then he barked, “Put him on.”

I glanced at Pasha.

“I’m here, Brother,” he said.

“I’m fucking proud of you,” Sebastian said without hesitation. “I’m sending the jet for the two of you. Get my sister home. Safe.”

Pasha didn’t respond right away, but his posture shifted, the tension easing and his chest puffed. “Will do.”

The call ended without anything else needing to be said. The silence that followed felt different.

“Well, I wasn’t expecting that,” I said.

“Me either, princess.”

By the time we pulled back up to the little art studio on Main Street, I wasn’t a hot-ass mess any more. I gathered Winter’s painting carefully, kissing the glass before putting it in the back with the others. We stepped out of the car and made our way inside. Mrs. Hawthorne was waiting.

“You’re back. Were you successful in finding your artwork?” she asked, her hands twisting together in front of her.

“I was, thank you,” I replied.

“Well, from what I understand, you’re the new owners, or will be. I will say I’m relieved because after your disclosure of what took place there, I wouldn’t feel right about not informing any potential buyer. I admit this makes it easier for me.”

That warmth washed over me all over again. “Yes, my brother will be handling all the details.”

We spent another few minutes discussing the mess on the off chance she went through the property. From her response, I knew she wouldn’t be stepping foot back inside that house, ever. Once we made it back to the car, I dialed Sebastian.