“Wow,” he says, rubbing his smooth chin. “That definitely explains why she’s been so secretive. Everything I ask her, she clamps like a vault.”

“You couldn’t have trusted anything she said anyway. She’s a revisionist storyteller. She changes the details of the past to suit herself.” I take his hand, interlace my fingers with his. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you any of this before. It’s not a place I go to if I can help it.”

“I get it,” he says, rubbing the side of his glass with his thumb.

“Some people are wired wrong,” I say. “And sometimes they end up in your family.”

Chase picks up his gin and sips it. “You know,” he says, “I think this is the most you’ve ever talked about yourself.”

My throat tightens, and I fight back tears. “It’s not that I don’t trust you, Chase, or don’t want you to know me. I’m not trying to be inaccessible.”

“You’ve just lived with secrets for too long.”

“Yes,” I say. “Yes.”

He leans across the table and touches my cheek, my neck. “So what now? Are we kicking her out?” It’s sweet how supportive he is. But kicking Ruth out won’t help anyone.

“No,” I say, kissing his hand before he withdraws it. “She’s my sister. She’s destitute and seven months pregnant. I can’t kick her out, however complicated she is.”

Chase nods, commiserating. “My brother and I didn’t speak for half a year when I beat him in a ski race. I still remember it. I was miserable. But when he needed me to help train for the next season, I couldn’t say no.”

I’d like to have had his life, the surface depth of his trauma.

“The important thing for me is to make sure Ruth’s baby is safe,” I say. “You know, what I’ve learned in my job is that so often damage is cyclical. It just perpetuates generation to generation. I don’t want that for Ruth’s child. Her baby deserves a shot at happiness.”

“We can look after her, make sure she’s eating right, keep her spirits up,” Chase offers. “But you realize, no matter what, she’s the child’s mother. There’s no escaping that.”

I smile. Is he right? Maybe. Maybe not.

He glows at me across the table.

“It’s big of you,” Chase says. “To accept this responsibility for your sister. I love you.”

“You’ve taken my sister in. It’s big of you, too.”

He shrugs. “Alex, I have to ask you—straight up—do I need to be worried about this Sully guy?”