Getting out, Dylan stood in the circular driveway. He rotated on the heel of one boot, letting his eyes roam over the immaculately weeded beds and neatly pruned trees. He saw the Brant place, but only the top half, as the trees his mother had planted to screen out their neighbors were tall now. The Brants were never as diligent at garden maintenance as Mary Howard.

Making himself move, instead of jumping back into his car and speeding out of town, he walked up to the front door and knocked on the wood. It felt awkward, because this was his family home, but he did it anyway. Letting himself in might shock whoever was inside. He tensed as footsteps approached, and then it was opening.

His little sister stood there. Dylan had seen her precisely twice in sixteen years, and both times with his parents when they came to visit him. Ava was younger than him by nine years, which made her twenty-three, and a lot shorter. She had brown curly hair that sat just below her ears, and a heart-shaped face with high cheekbones. Her eyes were lighter than his, and she was light-years away from the pigtail-wearing little princess she’d been at seven. Willowy and delicate, she wore a soft mint-colored sweater and blue jeans. On her feet were flats. The frown between her brows suggested she had no clue who he was.

“Can I help you?”

Why her words shocked him he had no idea, because they were strangers, but they did.

“I’m Dylan, your brother.”

There was a flare of surprise in her eyes, and then it was gone.

“Hello.”

Her words were emotionless, which was pretty much how he usually operated so he couldn’t fault her there... but still, she was his sister.

“How are you, Ava?”

It was cold, and he was still outside on the doorstep, but she didn’t move aside to let him in.

“I’m good. I have to go.” She brushed by him and down the stairs.

“Ava!” Dylan called after her, wanting some kind of emotion, emotion he had absolutely no right to from her.

“Yes?” She stopped at the bottom step and looked back up at him.

“Maybe later we could catch up?” It was a stupid thing to say, because Howards weren’t people who interacted, or for that matter caught up. In fact, Howards weren’t close in any way, and he and this young woman were complete strangers even though they shared blood.

She studied him.

“Sixteen years is a lot of catching up, Dylan, so let’s leave things the way they are.”