“Don’t speak to your brother like that, Ava!” Mary Howard bustled in through the front door, cutting Dylan off. “He has important work, and can’t be here, and I don’t want to hear you ever being anything but respectful to him.”

“Mom—” Dylan tried to stop her.

“He’s been studying and bettering himself, which is something you have yet to do.”

Jesus.

“Mom, don’t—”

“I want to study,” Ava said quietly, “but what I chose is not good enough for a Howard, remember. You forced me to do law, which I hated.”

“What do you want to study, Ava?” Dylan felt sweat break out on his forehead at what his mother had said. This was just how it used to be between him and Mary Howard.

“Hairdressing is not a career.” Their mother dumped her bags on the table. She was dressed in her exercise clothes, and Dylan guessed she’d walked to the shops.

“Yes it is,” he found himself saying like an idiot.

Don’t get involved.

“No, dear.” She patted his hand as if he was five. “Being an important member of the FBI or investment banking is a career. Now you just sit down and I’ll dish you up some oatmeal.”

The expression on Ava’s face never changed. Slowly she put down the wooden spoon, which Dylan thought showed a hell of a lot more restraint than he’d once had. If their positions were reversed he’d have thrown it at his mother.

“I don’t want to be an FBI profiler or an investment banker, I want to be a hairdresser,” his sister said calmly.

“It’s all right, Ava, perhaps we can have breakfast at the cafe this morning.” Zander took her arm. “Let’s go.”

His little sister allowed her boyfriend to lead her from the house. He watched her go and felt completely helpless.

I need to get out of this town. There were too many demons and battles to fight. He didn’t want that. Zero involvement in personal issues had always been his motto, and more so with his own family.

“Your sister has a bad attitude, Dylan, and your father and I can’t seem to do anything about that. She’s ungrateful, and refusing to see reason. I just wish she could take after you and Charlotte.”

Don’t get involved, just eat your oatmeal.

“I can’t imagine she’s trouble when compared to me and what I did before leaving Ryker. She’s also old enough to know her own mind, and if Ava wants to be a hairdresser, let her. She doesn’t need your consent, Mom.”

Dylan wondered why Ava hadn’t just moved out and done what she wanted.

“That’s not a career I can be proud of,” Mary Howard said, bustling about the kitchen putting things away. “Now when she was doing law, that was worthy of her time, but not hairdressing.”