“What?”
“We’re brothers.”
“I know.”
“You shake hands with insurance agents.”
“What do you want me to do?”
I stepped forward and hugged him.
For half a second, Logan remained rigid with surprise.
Then his arms closed around me.
It wasn’t dramatic.
Neither of us said anything.
It lasted maybe three seconds.
But seven years ended inside those three seconds.
Not disappeared.
Ended.
There was a difference.
When we stepped apart, Logan cleared his throat.
“Still terrible at normal human behavior.”
“Runs in the family.”
“I’ll call Rachel.”
“I think she’s expecting that.”
He shook his head.
“She’s going to be impossible about being right.”
“She seems nice.”
“Don’t encourage her.”
I started toward my car.
Then Logan called after me.
“Colin.”
I turned.
“I have something at home you should see.”
“What?”
“Another photograph.”
“Of what?”
He hesitated.
“Mom.”
I waited.
“Taken about two months before she died.”
“What about it?”
“She’s standing outside a place called Harbor House.”
The name meant nothing to me.
Logan continued.
“I found the picture in one of Dad’s boxes three weeks ago. There’s writing on the back.”
“What does it say?”
His expression became thoughtful.
“It says, ‘For Colin and Logan, when they’re finally ready to ask.’”
A chill moved across my arms despite the warm morning.
“Ask what?”
Logan shook his head.
“I don’t know.”
Then he added the detail that stayed with me all the way home.
“The photograph was tucked beside the record of that twelve-thousand-dollar transfer.”
-END OF PART 2 –PRESS NEX PART IN BOTTOM OF PAGE TO READ NEXT PART
I stared at his name on the screen longer than necessary.
Got off early. Rachel says you’re coming for dinner.
A second message followed.
Apparently she has already decided this.
Then:
Eli wants to show you his dinosaur collection. Prepare yourself.
I laughed.
Actually laughed.
Maya looked over from the next desk.
“Brother?”
“Yeah.”
“That was fast.”
“His wife is efficient.”
“Good. Your family needs one.”
I didn’t argue.
Logan lived in a narrow two-story house on a quiet street in Millhaven.
There were bicycles in neighboring driveways, flower pots on porches, and chalk drawings on the sidewalk.
When I pulled up, Eli was waiting safely behind the front window.
The second I stepped out of the car, he disappeared from view.
The front door opened before I reached the porch.
“Uncle Colin!”
He stopped at the threshold because Rachel caught his shoulder gently.
“Shoes first.”
Eli looked down.
He was wearing socks.
This apparently seemed like an unreasonable obstacle.
Thirty seconds later, properly equipped, he hurried onto the porch.
“You came.”
“I said I would.”
“Dad said maybe.”
Behind him, Logan appeared.
“I said adults sometimes change plans.”
“That’s Dad language for maybe,” Eli explained.
“Good to know.”
Logan gave me a look that was almost familiar.
The house felt lived in.
Not staged.
There were family photographs on the walls, crayons in a cup beside the kitchen counter, and a half-finished wooden shelf near the hallway that Logan claimed he had been meaning to install for four months.
Rachel called this statement optimistic.
Dinner was pasta, salad, and garlic bread.
Nothing important happened.
That was what made it important.
Eli told me about kindergarten.
Rachel described the small graphic-design business she operated from home.
Logan complained about a contractor who believed every old building could be fixed with modern replacement windows.
I listened.
Asked questions.
Told stories.
At one point, Eli asked whether Logan and I had been best friends when we were little.
Logan and I looked at each other.
“Usually,” I said.
“Except when he stole my bike,” Logan added.
“It was our bike.”
“It was my birthday present.”
“Mom said we had to share.”
“Mom said you could borrow it.”
“Same concept.”
Eli laughed so hard he dropped a piece of garlic bread onto his plate.
Rachel looked between us.
“I suddenly understand several things about my husband.”
“Don’t believe anything Colin says.”
“I haven’t even started.”
For an hour, the seven missing years sat quietly outside the room.
Not forgotten.
Simply unnecessary.
Later, after Eli went upstairs to choose which dinosaurs I was required to inspect, Rachel brought coffee into the living room.
Logan disappeared down the hall.
