“Oh, God. Oh, God. Oh, God.” She crushes my bones with her hug.

I melt into her and burst into laughter and tears at the same time. It’s a total case of emotional diarrhea, but it’s not every day you meet your half-sister for the first time.

“You’re both drenched! Come! Shall I make some tea?” She disconnects from me, tugs my hand, and ushers us inside, padding to the bathroom and coming back with two warm towels. We wrap ourselves gratefully.

“Tea!” Mal exclaims, like it’s the best idea he’s ever heard in his life. “The magic word. Rory, did you know Kath makes a mean cup of tea? Best in the county. No joke.”

Kath swats Mal on the chest and giggles like a schoolgirl on our way to the kitchen. We follow a narrow hallway with coats and scarves piled on hangers. Everything is small and neat and cozy. The house has a ’70s feeling to it, with green wallpaper, brown furnishings, and yellow lights. It is soaked with familiarity. Fully inhabited—not just a space with furniture like Mom’s house in New Jersey.

“Country, not county,” Mal amends.

Kathleen swats Mal’s shoulder and keeps her hand on him, possessively. Sighing like it’s a job, he captures her wrist, turning her around and pinning her against the hallway wall in one swift movement. I halt, watching the situation unfold. He holds her like a farmer holds cattle, rough and without passion, but she is breathing hard. Her eyes, heavy-lidded and dripping lust, daring him to make another move. She lets out a little moan, flinching at her own lack of control and turning bright red. He looks down at her like she’s a chewed toy. The familiar, old type that is too nostalgic to throw away, but no one wants to play with anymore.

“How’s school, Kiki?” he asks with a pang of regret in his voice, like he hates to do that—string her along.

Then why does he?

He knows exactly what he’s doing to her, and that bothers me, because I can see just how much he oozes control. She is locked in the moment, but he’s an observer, the gatekeeper keeping her in a foolish dream, the key far from her reach.

“Grand.” Her voice shakes. “I…I tried to call you a few times. Dropped by on Sundays after mass. Your mam said you’ve been busy.”

“I have.”

“Not too busy for Aurora, apparently.” She turns scarlet again. There’s nothing mean about her tone. Just desperate.

My loyalties are torn between the boy she loves, who is trying to help me, and the sister who’s falling apart because of him.

“She prefers the name Rory.” Mal removes a lock of hair from Kathleen’s face, tucking it behind her ear.

I want to punch him in the balls on her behalf, then kick him in the knee on mine.

“Sorry, Rory.” She flashes me a nervous smile, snapping her eyes back to him, like he could disappear at any moment. “I missed you.”