But Joseph called through from the kitchen for Alison right then, and she headed away with a pat of Catie’s shoulder. Frowning, Catie joined the others. At one point, she found herself looking at the photo wall that Alison had started when they first moved into this house.

It opened with a faded photograph of a young Joseph and Alison with two skinny boys. All wore paint-splattered clothing and held paintbrushes, their faces beaming. Catie smiled as she always did when she saw that first image of a family just begun. The resulting photos showed those boys growing taller and broader… and then there was one of Gabriel holding a tiny baby while the baby gripped Sailor’s finger. The two bigger boys were grinning, the baby smiling.

More family portraits—of a family of five, then six.

This time, it was Sailor who held the baby in careful arms, while a toddler rode Gabriel’s shoulders.

After that came the first photo of the four brothers all on their feet—though Danny was only upright because Sailor held one of his pudgy baby hands and Gabriel the other. Jake stood on Gabriel’s other side, his hand tight in his big brother’s.

It would’ve been expected for the older boys to fade away at some point as they began to live their adult lives, but they didn’t. Even when she knew Gabriel and Sailor were of an age when they’d long moved out, they were in countless photos with their younger brothers.

One of her favorites was of Sailor holding a large surfboard on the beach while a much smaller Danny held a child-sized one. Both of them were in wetsuits with the tops peeled down, their hair slick and their faces awash in grins.

“He’s a demon on the board.” Sailor’s voice as he came up beside her, putting one arm around her shoulders.

She leaned into him, more comfortable with him than she was with her own father. “I remember from when he aced those surfing competitions.” Catie had been in the audience at his first competition, then again at his fourth and fifth; he’d placed better and better with each one. “Wasn’t he weighing up which sport to go with for a while?”

“Nah.” Sailor squeezed her shoulder. “It was always going to be rugby, but he liked the girl-pulling power of surfing—especially back when he was a skinny, scrappy rugby kid.”

She laughed, well able to imagine Danny seeing surfing as a chick-magnet type of sport. “Did Harlow manage to get through to your place last night? He had the worst connection when he called me.” Her brother was currently on a business trip to a remote part of India in order to meet a collective of crafts people.