Bruce wanders out of the guest bedroom and meanders up to me. I scratch behind his ears, always comforted by the big dog’s presence.

“It’s two a.m. I just need to sleep.” I smile at Warner, softening my rejection of his offer.

“You heard her. Bedtime. We’ve got this.” Abram comes in right behind me, sliding a hand under my elbow to lend his support.

Normally, I’d wave him off, but tonight, I don’t mind having someone to lean on.

“I’ll get you ice for your ankle.” Carver heads to the refrigerator.

“Did you have enough blankets? I know we commandeered a bunch, but I don’t need mine,” Byron offers.

Donovan keeps quiet, but his eyes are locked on each one of my movements, as if he’s ready to lunge forward if I tip over.

“Zoey?” Warner’s voice has me glancing his way. “Do you want me to stay?”

Honestly, I’m surprised he’d even want to with the overbearing presence that is my brothers.

“She has us,” Abram grumps.

“Stop it.” I shush my older brother. “I want Warner here.”

Just because Abram wants to take care of me doesn’t give him the right to kick Warner out.

I take back my hand, maneuver around the mastiff, and shuffle toward the bedroom. The mattress creaks as I sit down on it, and my ankle thanks me for the relief.

Carver comes in, holding a towel filled with ice, and Byron approaches, holding his blanket.

“Don’t you dare put that on my bed. No way will I be able to sleep, knowing you don’t have any bedding.” I wave a finger at him, but immediately regret how harsh the words came out when I see the lost look on my brother’s face.

They all share it.

And for the first time tonight, I take a moment to imagine if it had been one of them who climbed up in the tree house instead of me.

How would I feel if I had found Abram or Donovan crumbled on the ground? What would it have been like to have to rush Byron or Carver to the emergency room?

My brothers are tough, strong men. Plenty of rugby games have ended with them bleeding from some random gouges.

But to see any of them truly hurt, my heart would break. I would physically ache for them. I would want to do anything in my power to take their pain away.

That’s all they’re doing now. Trying to ease my pain.

And I love them so much. I get the urge to cry, just like I’m back in the tree house, discovering the clues to my grandmother’s loneliness.

I’m lucky to be so surrounded by love. Never having to doubt that there’s someone who cares for me. Not when my brothers are near.