Does she want a cookie for doing the right thing? Inside, I grow a bit more numb. She’s my sister. But the person she’s become is the absolute worst version of her.

She won’t meet my eyes. “It was stupid taking the watch. No one would touch it . . .” She trails off with a strangled sound, realizing what she’s said.

I stare at her, disappointment so keen that I can’t seem to move. She tried to sell the watch. “What’s going on with you, Sam? Why did you need that much money?”

The gentle sweep of her jaw lifts. “I just did.”

“Three hundred thousand worth? Why?”

When she finally turns my way, her eyes are hard. “I have a bit of a gambling addiction. Sometimes I run low on funds.”

She could have knocked me over with a feather. Sam smirks. “You should see your face, Dee. So shocked.”

“This isn’t funny.”

“No,” she snaps. “It’s not. At any rate, I had a good run and no longer need money.”

A good run? My sister is a gambler, and I never noticed. What the hell has she gotten herself into? “Sammy . . .”

“It’s my business, so don’t go getting all Saint Delilah and try to fix it.”

My impulse is to snap back, tell her off. But I’m suddenly weary. I don’t want to fight her. I just want to get on with my life in peace. “Don’t worry, Sam. I learned my lesson. You fight your own battles now. I’m officially done.”

The clock on the wall ticks loud and clear as she stares at me. Some emotion passes over her face—regret or worry, I can’t tell—then she pulls in a breath and straightens her shoulders. “I’ve learned my lesson too. No more stealing for me.”

She says it like a joke that I’m expected to laugh at. I can’t. It worries me that she’s being so glib about her problem. It worries me that despite her claims of this good run, she might still owe someone an ungodly amount of cash. How did she pay it off without using Macon’s watch? But I hold my tongue. If I’m going to stick to my word and stay out of her business, I have to start now.

“Delilah,” Sam begins after a moment. “This thing with Saint—tell me it isn’t serious.”

I move to the end of the counter and wipe away a water ring. “I know he was your boyfriend during school. And I wouldn’t have gone there with him if it wasn’t . . .” I take a deep breath and face her. “Yes, this is serious. I care about him.”

Pity fills her eyes. “Oh, Dee, you should know better. Saint isn’t capable of love.”

“That’s not true . . .”