I slip the knife back into my boot and give Broderick a brilliant smile. “Works for me.” I don’t actually expect my family to have much in the way of information to impart. They’ve been trapped in this place, collateral against my good behavior while I travel back and forth from the Amazon faction. Still, there’s plenty of gossip to share, and I just miss Winry. We’ve only seen each other a handful of times since Lammas, almost always with the other Brides around.

If Cohen’s mistreating her, I’ll fucking kill him.

I don’t have to wait long for Winry to show. My little sister is practically glowing, her pale cheeks pink and her blond hair looking particularly bouncy. Oh, she has a bitchy look on her face, but she’s obviously not suffering through being a Bride or being tortured by Cohen. That’s something at least. She’s wearing a pair of sweats and a sweatshirt, both of which I’m certain aren’t hers. They dwarf her curvy body, baggy in a way that can’t be intentional. I frown at them. “Are you stealing Cohen’s clothing?”

She blushes a bright red. “These are Maddox’s, actually.”

I stare. “You’re wearing the clothing of your husband’s best friend.”

If anything, she gets redder. “Don’t you dare accuse me of causing problems, Monroe. It’s not like I’m sneaking around behind Cohen’s back.”

I didn’t think my little sister could shock me. Apparently I was wrong. Obviously, I knew she was sharing the room with both men, but sharing more than that? “I’m going to need you to explain yourself.”

“I’m going to need you to mind your own damn business.” She crosses her arms over her generous chest. “You’re in enough trouble as it is.”

I’m about to ask her what the fuck she’s talking about, but our uncle chooses that moment to walk into the room. Jasper, quite frankly, looks like shit. He’s lost weight since I saw him last, and he wasn’t a particularly large man to begin with. His beard has also become long and almost unkept. If not for the clean clothes on his body, he might be mistaken for some mountain man wandering into the city by accident. His smile when he sees us, though, is bright enough. “Hey, girls.”

“Uncle Jasper.” Winry throws herself at him, hugging him for all she’s worth. He was a late-in-life baby for our grandmother, so he’s only a few years older than me and seven years older than Winry. She’s been greeting him exactly like this ever since she could walk.

He keeps an easy arm around her shoulders and walks over to pull me into a hug, too. “How are you holding up?” he murmurs.

“Oh, you know me. Causing chaos and sowing discord.”