Sey sat on the back porch, staring at the sunset with unseeing eyes. Every now and then, he would wipe at those eyes. He wasn’t crying. Tears wouldn’t help. But his fingers trembled as they continued to seek the non-existent moisture.

Walter smiled at the younger man he considered a son. “Hey, Birkoff.”

“Hey, Walter,” Sey replied without even registering the greeting.

“It’s a shame about Declan’s sister, huh? Which one was it?”

“I dunno. He has so many, y’know.” Sey’s voice didn’t sound cold as much as numb.

“How come you didn’t go with him?”

Sey swung his head around so suddenly, Walter thought that he meant to hit him. Ducking instinctively, Walter waited for the blow to fall. It never came.

Sey buried his face in his hands, swiping repeatedly at the tears that he could feel, but that didn’t show.

“You seem awful upset, Birkoff.”

Sey made a determined effort to pull himself together. For Declan. In absentia. That almost provoked a fresh wave of pain, but he fought for control and won. He raised his head and tried to smile, albeit weakly. “I just miss him, Walter. You know how it is.”

“Yeah, I do. You two are never separated. Guess it kinda took you by surprise, huh?”

The younger man nodded. “Yeah. You could say that.”

“If you ever need to talk, man, you know I’m still here,” Walter offered.

“Thanks, Walter,” Sey answered, knowing that he owed it to Declan to maintain his cover. And anyway, Sey thought with a sniff, it wasn’t as if he actually knew where Declan was.

***

It was almost dusk. Sey reluctantly stood. Somewhere, out there, was his lover and partner. He hoped that he had found what he was looking for, but more than that, he prayed that he returned to him.

Like Michael and Nikita, Declan and Sey rarely, if ever, slept apart. Sey shook his head. It looked like a sleepless night for him. How could he rest not knowing where Declan was, or if he was safe?

He turned to climb the stairway to their third- floor apartment, colliding with Declan’s twin sister, Derry. “Oh! Hi, Derry.”

“Don’t you ‘hi’ me, you son-of-a-bitch! You know something, don’t you?”

Sey thought he did a fair impression of a man who had no idea what was going on. “Excuse me? About what?”

“First Michael vanished, then my brother! You may not know anything about Michael’s disappearance, but I’ll bet you know what happened to Declan!”

“No, Derry, I wish to God I did.”

Derry’s silvery-grey eyes, so like Declan’s, flashed angrily. “While you’re busy wishing to God, you better ask Him to protect you from me, if you’re lying, boyo.”

“I’m not. I really don’t know where Declan is.”

Derry shifted uncomfortably, her uneasiness betrayed by a physical restlessness. “Dammit, Sey, I just know that Michael and Declan going missing at the same time can’t be coincidence.”

He gave her credit. She was holding together better than anyone might have expected.

“Maybe.”

“Oh, c’mon, Sey, tell me there’s nothing ominous in that note Michael left.”

“Well….” How could he answer that without betraying his own suspicions? He was positive that Michael and Declan were together. Wherever they were. As to why…he hesitated to speculate. There were too many unfinished stories out there, and his years at Section had drilled into him that there was no such thing as a happy ending.

“You feel it, too, don’t you?” Derry whispered, sounding so much like Declan for a moment that Sey’s throat ached with the tears that he couldn’t shed.

“Bloody hell, I refuse to accept that I’ve found my brother, only to lose him again!”

Sey couldn’t speak for the unspent emotion clogging his throat. Finally croaking her name, Sey pulled her into a snug embrace. Derry resisted at first, all her instincts telling her to pull away. The only people she felt completely comfortable touching her were her husband and her kids. Even after all these years, she remained curiously aloof with Declan and the rest of the family.

“He went after Michael, didn’t he?” she asked, allowing Sey to hold her. God, she must be more distraught than she thought. Sey’s arms felt good around her. Different from her husband’s. But good. Maybe it was his kind heart…maybe it was his connection to her brother. It didn’t matter. She let go of the tension that drove her to confront Sey. Now there was only her fear.

Sey closed his eyes. “You asking me or telling me?”

“Whatever it takes, caraid.”

Sey winced. Friend. How could she call him friend? “I can’t tell you what you want to hear, Derry.”

“Can’t or won’t?” she asked angrily, pulling out of his arms.

Sey sighed. “He said he was going to Ireland.”

“But you don’t believe him.”

“It doesn’t matter what I believe, Derry. Whatever it is, it is.”

“He left you behind,” she stated flatly.

“He did what he had to do,” Sey countered.

“Doesn’t that bother you?”

“Considering where you came from, how can you say that to me?”

“Aren’t you even going to try to look for him or Michael?”

Sey took a deep breath. “If I thought that’s what he wanted, Derry…nothing could stop me.”

“But you think they don’t want to be found.”

“I think they’re doing what they have to do,” Sey repeated. It was the best explanation he could come up with.

He just hoped that wherever they were, they were together. Watching each other’s backs.

Cause that’s how it was. Out there. Somewhere.

Sasha stalked into the apartment, his footsteps thudding loudly throughout the third floor. He slammed the refrigerator door shut minutes later, sending the juice and soda bottles to clanking musically against each other. He glared at his sister as he passed her, but he didn’t speak.

Emmy frowned, her beautiful young face contorted in pain at the estrangement between them. “Sasha!”

“I-don’t-want-to-talk-to-you!” he ground out.

“But Sasha--!”

“Go away!” He threw himself face-down on the couch, grabbing the remote off the floor and clicking it angrily at the TV.

Emmy tried to wrest the remote away from Sasha, but he was too quick for her. They tumbled together on the couch, and she almost had her brother pinned when he suddenly yelled, “Get off me!”

“What’s the matter with you?” Emmy cried, dismayed with the speed with which their relationship was going downhill. “What did I do?”

“Don’t you freaking know?”

“You mean what I said when we were walking home from school?”

Sasha merely huffed and puffed like breathing was suddenly beyond his control.

“All I said was that it was a good thing that Daddy didn’t go away because Da is so much better at that kind of thing.”

“What kind of thing?” he demanded.

“You know…stuff.” She shrugged.

“You meant killing people, didn’t you?”

“Well…yeah, I guess.”

“How the hell can you say it like that? Like you’re talking about doing your homework or feeding the dog?” Sasha advanced on his sister.

“Don’t you understand what it means to be good at killing people? It means you have to do it over and over. Till you get freaking good at it.” He stopped only because he was out of breath.

Maybe it wasn’t her fault. Maybe she just saw it as an abstract concept instead of feeling it the way Sasha did. In his gut. Maybe she didn’t realize how something like that could destroy the soul of a sensitive man like Declan.

Or maybe she did. Maybe she thought Declan was so much stronger than Sey, he could survive anything. Even the loss of his soul.

Emmy looked stricken. “Why did Da tell everyone he was going to Ireland anyway? No one believed him.”

Sasha contemplated her evidently guilt-ridden face. What did she have to feel guilty about? So she blurted out something that could have used a bit more thought. She wasn’t perfect. Even if Da and Chris did think the sun rose and set on her.

“You mean you didn’t believe him either?” Sasha asked rhetorically.

“How could I? Da’s never once mentioned our relatives back in Ireland, and now he has to go see them? When Uncle Michael just went missing?”

Sasha felt his anger start to cool. Emmy couldn’t help reacting emotionally. She was surrounded by emotional people, and she came by it naturally. She was Declan’s daughter.

“You think they’re together?”

“Maybe.” Emmy sat on the floor in front of the couch and wrapped her arms around her knees. “I hope so,” she added in a tiny voice.

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why are you so worried? You’re the one who admires Da’s ability to kill people.” Sasha belatedly realized that this was liable to start up the whole debate all over again. But he expected anger, given their earlier wrestling match.

Unfortunately, Emmy could be every bit as unpredictable as Declan.

She burst into tears, sobbing as if her heart would break.

“Em!” Sasha scooted off the couch to kneel beside her, immediately pulling her into his arms. “Emmy, please don’t cry,” he murmured into her bright red hair.

She buried her face in his chest, finally spilling her burden in fits and starts. “At least your Daddy’s still here…mine is gone.”

Oh. Sasha squeezed his eyes shut and held onto her tightly. “No, Em…he’s my Da, too. And I—“ He broke off, scared at getting in touch with those feelings. All it would take was one good push to overwhelm him, too, and then, what good would he be to his sister?

Emmy raised tear-filled eyes to Sasha’s. “Sasha?”

“And I’m so afraid, Em. Afraid he won’t be here to see me grow up.”

***

By dinnertime, Sasha and Emmy seemed completely recovered. Unusually quiet, but otherwise dry-eyed. Sey moved around the apartment like a wraith, neither here nor there. Keeping himself under absolutely rigid control was the only way Sey could cope.

One might be forgiven for thinking that Sey was somehow coldly oblivious to his lover’s absence. If one went only by what was visible. But emotion roiled with frightening intensity within him. Like Nikita, he felt he had to maintain an outward calm for the sake of the children. They were so vulnerable, and seeing their remaining parent lose control would scare them to death.

Sasha’s dark eyes followed his father around the apartment. Sey pretended that he was unaware of Sasha’s scrutiny for as long as he could, and then he decided to go to bed early. Not because he was tired, but because he couldn’t keep up the pretense any longer.

He almost made it to his bedroom door before Sasha struck.

“You’re really something, Dad.”

“What do you mean?” Sey asked, positive he wasn’t going to like the answer.

“You even had me fooled.”

“About what?” Sey asked with real trepidation.

“I thought you and Da were inseparable. But you let him go without shedding a tear.”

Sey gaved his son a curiously blank look. He refused to let his children see his own fear. Better that Sasha thought the worst of him.

He continued on to the bedroom without a backward look.

The moment he crossed the threshold, Sey closed the door behind him and leaned on it, breathing like a runner who had just completed a marathon. He would have locked the door if he’d been himself. But he wasn’t. He was at a loss to explain just why it felt different, but it did.

I’m not Sey anymore, he thought, I’m Sey without Declan, and I don’t know how to be him.

He slid down to the floor, hiding his face between his drawn-up knees. His body curled upon itself, as if Sey were trying to make himself as small as possible. If Declan had been there, he would have recognized the posture. Sey was lost in the past. His past. Where the people he loved didn’t love him back. Where the people he loved left him…and never came back.

He wasn’t even aware that he was finally able to shed all those tears he’d been holding onto so fiercely. He cried silently until exhaustion overtook him and he fell asleep, his body curled up against the door.

***

A few hours later, Sasha was punishing his pillow, unable to sleep and finding that a pillow made a poor substitute for someone to hold.

“What do I care if I hurt his feelings? He doesn’t act like he’s got any feelings to hurt anyway,” Sasha muttered.

But it wasn’t in Sasha’s nature to be unkind, and the reason he couldn’t sleep was not just because he thought he’d wounded his father, but because he knew who Sey was. And Sey would no more abandon Declan than he would his family.

Sasha abruptly threw back the covers and jumped out of bed. Without stopping to put on his robe, he made his way to his father’s bedroom, standing outside the door indecisively.

He debated knocking, finally deciding to press on before he lost his nerve. Giving the door a gentle shove, Sasha was startled to find the way blocked by something.

His father’s body.

“Daddy!” Sasha yelled, waking the troubled man.

Sey struggled to clear the sleep from his eyes, feeling as if he’d been drugged. Sasha’s voice seemed to come from far away.

“Are you okay?” Sasha fell to his knees and began to pull Sey into a sitting position. Sey was not a big man, but he was completely dead weight. Moving him took a lot of effort, and by the time Sey recovered himself enough to help, Sasha was panting.

Sasha peered into his father’s face, trying to see if he was physically all right. “Dad? Daddy? Did you take anything?”

Sey shook his head slowly and mumbled, “No…wouldn’t do that.”

Sasha’s eyes were so dark, they appeared black. “I’m…” Sasha swallowed repeatedly, but the lump in his throat persisted. “I’m so sorry, Daddy.”

Sey closed his eyes and Sasha bit back a cry. He looked dead. His face so pale, his eyelashes fluttering weakly against his cheeks. If it weren’t for the dark circles under his eyes, he would have no color at all.

“’S’okay, kiddo,” Sey said with a groan.

“I didn’t mean it, Daddy. I know how much you love Da. I was just—“

“Angry? Upset?”

“I was gonna say I was being a jerk. But I like what you said better.” Sasha almost smiled, but he caught himself.

Sey threaded his fingers through his hair and said wearily, “I’m so cold.” As if to give credence to that statement, Sey shivered, his skin turning to gooseflesh right before Sasha’s eyes.

Sasha said, “Stay here,” sounding calm and in control and totally unlike any twelve-year old boy Sey had ever imagined.

He leaped to his feet and crossed the room quickly to the bed. Yanking the comforter off the bed, Sasha threw it down on the floor. A moment later, he had both oversized pillows in his arms.

“Lift up, Daddy,” he directed the older man. Raising Sey’s head, he placed a pillow under him. “That’s better, isn’t it?”

Before Sey could answer, Sasha wrapped his father in the royal blue comforter. “How’s that?”

Sey could barely speak, his eyelids fast closing of their own volition as exhaustion overtook him. But he said softly, “’S’wonderful, kiddo. But still c—“

“Still cold?” Without another word, Sasha pushed his slender frame under the comforter, next to his father. Laying his head on Sey’s shoulder, Sasha then proceeded to wrap his arms around him. “I’ll keep you warm, Daddy.”

Sey protested mildly, as if to say he objected to the role reversal. How was it that Sasha ended up protecting Sey, instead of the other way around? But Sasha was nothing if not his father’s son. He refused to relinquish his grip on the older man, and soon, Sey’s fingers were ruffling his son’s dark silky hair.

“You take good care of me, Sash,” he whispered.

“We take good care of each other, Daddy. That’s what families are for. You said…” he reminded his father.

Sey bent down and kissed the top of his son’s head. “I love you, kiddo. Da…” Sey almost choked on the name, but he persevered bravely, “…would be really proud of you.”

“I love you, too, Daddy. We’ve got to stick together so we can stay strong. For when Da comes back home.”

Sey could hear the unspoken desperation in Sasha’s voice, but he needed to believe the same thing.

“Yeah.”

The last thing Sasha heard before he drifted off to an uneasy dream state was his father’s voice. “You’re a good kid, Sash.”

***

Declan looked taller and leaner than ever before. Clad completely in black, he cut a formidable figure. Anyone who had a lick of common sense would think twice about crossing his path.

He glowered at the smaller figure before him. His eyes were like molten fire, flames of silver dancing wickedly in their depths. “What are you doing here, boyo?” his normally mellifluous voice challenged in ominous tones.

“W-watching.”

“Watching what, boyo? This isn’t a game, y’know.”

“I know.”

Declan advanced further into the other’s territory. “This is bloody real.”

“I-I….” The shadowy figure grew even more indistinct, as though it was losing contact with whatever force held it here.

“I’m not here to hurt you.” Declan bared his teeth in a feral grimace.

“Right,” the amorphous shape replied, looking like it could not decide exactly what it wanted to be. Boy or man? For it was definitely a male. Sasha tossed and turned restlessly, groaning loudly.

Is it me? Is it me? No, it can’t be me, Sasha answered himself, his breath hitching. Da would never hurt me. No, no, no, this is all wrong.

Declan bent down, his face growing bigger as he neared the figure on the floor. “You were just in the wrong place at the wrong time, boyo.”

Did he say boyo? Or did he say kiddo? Kiddo is my nickname. He didn’t say kiddo. Did he? Sasha keened in his sleep, his entire body beginning to tremble. Oh, shit, oh, shit….

For a moment, for one freaking scary-ass moment, Declan moved back, and Sasha could finally see a bit more. What he saw frightened him.

That soft, blurry image sharpened into someone with dark brown hair and even darker brown eyes.

***

He was crying and rocking, his arms and legs flailing wildly. His cries woke his father, who tried to restrain him, if only to prevent him from hurting himself, but the sight of someone, anyone, looming over him, as in the dream, forced a scream from his throat.

Emmy burst through the door, taking in her father and her brother, locked in reluctant embrace. “What are you doing, Sasha?” Desperately afraid that Sasha had attacked their father when he was most vulnerable, Emmy wrenched at the two men, struggling to separate them.

When she was flushed and perspiring, she could see that they could never be separated. At least, not by her. That’s when she realized that someone was speaking. A calm voice. A familiar voice. One that offered the hope that everything would turn out all right. Someday.

“Daddy?”

“Hey, Princess Em,” Sey said, deliberately using Declan’s nickname for their daughter.

“Oh, Daddy, did I hurt you? Or Sasha?”

“No, sweetie, you didn’t hurt either one of us. Sasha was just having a bad dream, that’s all.”

Emmy sniffled and swiped delicately at her nose. “C-can I sleep here, too? With you?”

Sey looked surprised, but he nodded slowly. Emmy didn’t need an engraved invitation. She pulled the comforter back on Sey’s other side and climbed inside their makeshift bed. In seconds, she was fast asleep.

Sey glanced at the two children who slept peacefully in his arms. He was truly blessed. Only a benevolent God would send such innocents into his life to protect him.

He prayed that this same God watched over Declan.

“What do you mean, you’re leaving?”

Davenport stopped in the middle of packing his duffelbag and stared at his wife. “You of all people should understand what’s at stake here, Derry.”

He didn’t even pretend to dissemble. He knew she was more than capable of figuring out what was going on…and coincidence had nothing to do with any of it.

The soft revving of a motorcycle nearby momentarily drew their attention. Walter. Come to pick him up. Davenport would explain things to him on the way to the academy. There they would part ways. Walter would understand.

“I owe Michael. We both do. If it wasn’t for him, we’d be dead—or as good as. Which is the same freaking thing at Section.”

“But Jake! We have a life here! Children! How can you leave us?”

Davenport seemed disappointed in Derry’s reaction. Cassidy. His Cassidy would have understood. In a heartbeat. Had she forgotten how it was? Or was she simply in denial?

“How can you expect me to stay? This is Michael we’re talking about. Not to mention your brother. Declan. Remember him?”

Derry closed her eyes in pain. Remember him? Finding Declan had been a shock to her strangely well- ordered life. One could say many things about Section, but it was oddly predictable in its own way. Prep for a mission, go out into the field, kill or be killed, and come home. If you could call a place like Section home. Home was where the heart was…and her heart had been at Section. In Davenport’s care.

She who once dreamed of belonging…she who once dreamed of being part of a family like this one. She took one look into Declan’s eyes and she knew him. Oh, she didn’t guess he was her long lost twin brother. But she saw a kindred spirit. She saw someone who had been where she’d been, seen what she’d seen, known what she’d known.

And now he was gone. He was with Michael. And there was a hole in her heart, the likes of which she never expected.

To lose her husband or her children would be tragic beyond imagination. But she was stunned by the intensity of her feelings about losing Declan. For so long, she had hidden from him her jealousy. It seemed so petty. It seemed so wrong to hold onto those feelings, knowing what Declan had suffered at their father’s, and later, their brother Justin’s, hands. But though the jealousy was irrational, even irrelevant to their current situation, it remained.

She wanted what Declan had. It made little sense, but there it was. Even now, even after making her own family, she envied what he had made of his life. His relationship with Sey, his relationship with his children.

And yet, all that jealousy, all that underlying resentment, all those feelings that went nowhere…suddenly went somewhere…suddenly meant something. She couldn’t lose her brother now. Not now that she knew what he truly meant to her. What if she never saw him again? What if she never had a chance to tell him that those feelings, those obstacles borne of the past, no longer existed? An overwhelming sense of dread came over her. If he didn’t come back, she thought the guilt would surely kill her.

The motorcycle revved again, this time more loudly, more impatiently. Walter’s signal to Davenport that time was running out.

“Jake!” She grabbed her husband’s hand and clasped it to her chest. “Take me with you!”

“You know I can’t do that, Derry,” Davenport answered sadly, shaking his head. “The kids need you—“

“Oh, is this a bloody great man thing then? The men go out to hunt while the women take care of the children?” Tears sparkled in Derry’s eyes for a moment, before she regained control, and Davenport saw through her anger to her very real desperation to save those she loved. To finally have a chance to use what she knew…for good.

“Darlin’, no,” Davenport said softly. “It’s not that you couldn’t do what I’m gonna do. But if you go, who will protect the kids? Not just our kids, but all of them?”

She knew he was right. No one could be more fiercely protective of the family than Derry. Except Nikita. And without Michael, Nikita needed Derry, too.

She tried to smile, but her chin wobbled. Suddenly the tears she had been holding back spilled down her cheeks. For the first time, Davenport saw how much the two of them had changed. They had so much to lose now. But if they weren’t willing to fight to keep it, what good was any of it?

His subsequent embrace nearly crushed her. His lips against her ear, he murmured, “I love you,” over and over, like a magical incantation to ward off the encroaching darkness that threatened to swallow them all.

“Don’t you dare die on me, Jake Davenport,” she whispered, burying her face against his shoulder.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, darlin’,” he whispered back, knowing that now would not be a good time to tell Derry that if circumstances demanded it, he would lay down his life for Michael.

All they had was each other. How could they let anyone take that away from them?

Nikita stood at the kitchen window, staring out at nothing. The day was overcast, the weather damp. Though it was not raining, it was the kind of a day where you could smell the storm coming. Her wrist ached where it had been broken. Wait, that wasn’t her. It was Michael.

Nikita idly rubbed her wrist with her other hand, feeling the ache as surely as if it had been hers. She wouldn’t cry. She would let the rain do that for her. Let the skies weep. It’s only fitting.

Derry stopped in the doorway, studying the older woman. Nikita was indeed lost without Michael. Not because she couldn’t function. She was more than capable of running the house, holding the family together, and keeping the children on-track. But in the truest sense, her heart was broken.

All meaning and familiarity with the world she inhabited was gone. She knew he wasn’t dead. Certain that she would feel the universe shift in some important way if Michael died, Nikita clung to that belief as proof that Michael was still alive. But that almost didn’t matter. Because he was gone.

Hearing Derry’s step behind her, for one brief moment, she let herself believe that it could be him. “Michael?” she cried hopefully, her too-pale face momentarily brightening.

“Sorry, Nik,” Derry replied. “I came to check on you.”

Nikita shrugged. “I’m…okay.”

“If there’s one thing you’re not, it’s okay. I don’t know who you think you’re fooling with that “I’m fine” act, but you can’t put one over on me, Nik. I know you too well.”

“Derry, I—“

“I know, I know, Nik, you’re holding up just grand. You sound just like Declan sometimes, y’know that?”

Nikita’s vivid blue eyes swam with tears she steadfastly refused to shed. Somehow, in her mind, she was sure that if she cried, it would be an admission that Michael would never return. That this was nothing more than superstitious thinking eluded her.

“Nik,” Derry continued in her softly-accented brogue, feeling the overwhelming pain that emanated from the older woman who had befriended her. “He’s coming back.”

Nikita shook her head, as if to say, I know better.

“He has to. Look what he’s left behind. Besides…he has help now.”

Nikita blinked sharply and a silvery tear traced its way down her cheek. “What do you mean?”

“Oh, come on, Nik. You mean it never occurred to you that Declan was with Michael?”

“N-no, I never really put that together,” Nikita said, shivering in reaction.

“Shows just how upset you are, Nik. You’re usually more swift on the uptake.”

“Derry, what if—what if Declan is lost, too?” Nikita’s face crumpled. She was fast losing the battle not to cry.

“Don’t say that, Nik!” Derry’s overreaction told Nikita what she needed to know. Derry was far from unaffected by all of this. She just hid it better. Like Declan.

All at once Nikita pulled the younger woman into a tight embrace, crying silently. Initially at a loss as to what to do, Derry thought of Jake and how he never failed to comfort her. Gently stroking Nikita’s hair, Derry guided her head to her shoulder. “Ssh, ssh, it’ll all work out.”

Struggling to regain control of her runaway emotions, Nikita drew back with a noisy sob. “I want to believe you, Derry. But—“

Derry cut her off with a now-shaky voice. “Nik, Jake went after the two of them today.”

“Oh, Derry, I’m so sorry!”

“Don’t you be sorry! Jake’s going to help bring the two of them home!”

“I hope you’re right….”

“If only we had more help….”

***

Faith crept away from her spot by the door, where she had been carefully eavesdropping for several minutes. She was supposed to be at school. But she had gone back for her history book, which was still in the house.

Catching up with her brother outside, Faith exclaimed, “I have to tell you something!”

Chris looked pointedly at her empty hands. “I thought you went back for your book. You’re going to be in trouble again, Fee. And frankly, I’m getting tired of covering for you with Mom.”

“Mom’s beyond noticing whether or not I have my school books, Chris,” Faith said bitterly.

“You’re all heart, Fee. You wouldn’t be able to concentrate on anything either if your husband suddenly got up and left for parts unknown.”

“Look, do you want to hear what I have to say or not?” Faith demanded. She had the look of Michael now. It was in her eyes as well as the set of her mouth.

Chris gave his sister a knowing look. “You want to tell me more than I want to hear about it, Fee. So don’t try to intimidate me. It won’t work.”

“This is important, stupid!”

Chris blinked. “You know where Dad is?” he asked, making an intuitive leap.

“No, but I know who does.”