Maybe she could stay with Tate for a while. But his father wasn’t her biggest fan just yet . . . his father, her grandfather. Oh goodness, that hadn’t even gelled in her mind yet. And though Tate said he wanted to get to know her, did that really mean he wanted her lingering in his life after disrupting it so suddenly?

And Neil. Good, kind, caring Neil. He’d come right out and asked her to stay but . . .

But what?

But what if I’ve built this up in my head to be more than it is? Just like when she’d gone looking for CarleeAnn.

That had led to so much hurt.

But it’d also led her to the photo, and the photo had led her to accepting Wilder Monroe’s theory, which had led her to Maine in the first place. From her place of deepest hurt, God had brought something amazing. Something she never could’ve expected.

He’d brought her here.

“But . . . Micah.”

“He’s going to be okay. I’ve already been talking to an uncle of mine—he’s a cop who’s dealt with this kind of thing before. Given the under-the-table shadiness of this whole thing, this Harmon guy might not have a leg to stand on as far as legally demanding repayment. But even if he does—”

“Nikola, no.”

“Don’t worry, I’m not going to give him twenty-five grand. I’m just saying, he’s going to be okay. My uncle has already recommended a lawyer who does pro bono work here and there. We’ll work together and figure something out.”

“But—”

“You need to listen to her, Syd.”

When had Micah walked over? His dark eyes burned with intensity despite the circles underneath them.

“I made a horrible mistake. I know that. When Harmon sent his goon after me, I . . . I should’ve gone to Nikola’s uncle but I didn’t because I thought . . . I don’t know what I thought. I just know it was stupid. But it would be an even worse mistake to watch you give up everything you want for me. You’ve already done that once before.”

“Micah—”

“No, don’t argue.” He raked his fingers through his hair. “If you want to do something for me now, then . . . then let me go. It’s time. We both know it.”

Her tears were back. “You’ll always be my little brother.”

He did her the favor of rolling his eyes when she hugged him, lightening the moment, easing the weight that had settled in her stomach since the moment he turned up in Maine. And making room for something else.

Something warm and hopeful and nerve-wracking and maybe a little terrifying. Something that might be God’s voice or perhaps her own heart . . . or probably both. Because maybe Nikola was right. Maybe there were times when her deepest desires were the echoes of divine whispers.