Page 48

It’s clear Vito has seen a lot since working for my sister because all he does is shrug before squatting down next to Percy, running a finger over a burnt rib.

Brenna sniffs loudly before pulling away. Her eyes widen at the wet patch on my shirt and she runs her hand over it as if to wipe away her tears.

“Babe,” I say gently, stilling her hands with mine. “It’s OK.”

“No, it’s actually not,” her voice wobbles. “I’ve ruined your shirt and I’ve lost my Grammy and next Frank is going to go and I’m going to be not alone alone because I’ll have you but I’ll have an ache in my chest where my sister used to be,” she ends on a whisper, her lower lip trembling.

“Wait, where am I going?” Frank asks from behind her, looking from Bren, then to me.

Brenna whirls around to look at her sister. “You’ll go to where Grammy and all the other souls are,” Brenna whines, flapping her arms around. “That’s what souls do. They finish their business then Gabe has to send them on.”

Frank turns to look at me, then at Dima who steps up beside me. “I don’t have any business.” She shrugs.

“Huh?” Brenna sniffs, looking at her soul sister through puffy eyes.

Frank has no unfinished business.

Every single soul I’ve sent on has hovered between here and there because they had unfinished business. Messages to pass on, promises that need to be kept, the need to see the outcome of something they had started before leaving this world. Everyone had something their soul stayed for…except Frank. Frank never lived. There is nothing for her to finish.

“I don’t have any business,” Frank repeats to Bren, looking from her to the rest of us.

“Then perhaps,” Dima begins, “you do not need to go.”

We all stare at Dima who gives us a smug little grin. It’s unnerving on the Russian. Even more so when he throws his arm over my sister who still has a gun in her hand. Vito using a hand saw on the remains behind them.

“I don’t really know these people well, but they’re kinda creepy.” Frank says out of the corner of her mouth to Brenna.

“Yeah, but they’re the best,” Bren grins, taking in the scene like a proud mother hen.

“So,” I begin, my attention on Frank.

“So,” she replies.

“So,” Bren says, her gaze on me. “Can she stay?”

Brenna and Frank grip each other's hands, linking fingers, both sets of expectant eyes on me. “Well,” I swallow. “I think Frank can choose.”

Brenna turns her nervous face to Frank, eyes huge, hopeful, and a little scared. I fucking hope Frank stays. Brenna needs Frank. Almost as much as I think Frank needs her.

Frank stares at her sister. “Well, that’s easy.”

“It is?” Brenna asks, eyes somehow growing wider.

“Where would I go? You’re my home, Bren.”

Brenna squeals, pulling her sister into her, jumping up and down in excitement before she throws herself toward me, trusting me to catch her. I will always catch her.

“She’s staying,” she whispers, happiness glowing out of her.

“I heard,” I grin.

“She said I’m her home.”

“That she did.”

“Gabe?”

“Yeah, babe?”