“Okay.” He stood and let go of my hand. “Hey, Rose, why don’t you come and sit with me for a second so my dad will take his medication? I think you might just be too smart for him to walk away from.” He held his hand out to Rose, and she came around the table to take it. “Come on. I’ll teach you how to judge some ore.”

I sat, my eyes unfocused on the map of the mine, while May managed to coax Arthur into taking his medication. The carbon monoxide poisoning had weakened his heart, giving his sons yet another reason to worry about his health.

Eventually, he sat next to me, his finger tracing the paths in the mine. I saw pieces of Cam in him, but only small ones. The shape of his nose. The narrowing of his eyes in focus.

So much of Cam was his mom. Especially his heart.

Art looked up and smiled at where Xander sat with Rose. “He’s a good one, Alexander. Always the first to help.”

“So is Cam,” I said softly.

Art’s eyebrows furrowed as he glanced my way and then back down to the mine.

“Why?” The question slipped free before I could stop myself.

Art’s hand stilled on the map, but he didn’t look my way.

“Why couldn’t you just love him the way you love Xander? The way you loved Sullivan? He was just as worthy, even if he wasn’t perfect.”

The shop behind us was packed with the hum of tourists, and Art was so quiet that I wondered if he’d even heard me.

“There’s a balance,” he finally said, his voice low.

“What?”

“Good. Evil. Right. Wrong. Karma. It’s as old as the first brothers in the Bible. Whatever you want to call it, the universe keeps us in balance.” He trailed his finger down the oldest tunnel in the mine, searching for something I couldn’t see.

“And you think Cam…” I shook my head. What was I even thinking, asking a man whose mind had long since quit being dependable.

“Xander was born all sunshine and smiles. He was perfect. Lillian was so happy. And I knew that if we had another one, balance might not be on our side. It wasn’t for my parents.” He leaned over the table, following the 1880 tunnel down to the lower levels, where the tunnels wound back on each other.

“Cal?” It was widely known that there was no love lost between the brothers.