“He’s dead, isn’t he?” I asked my mother, my tone cold and lifeless.

My mother proved that she had some humanity left inside her by flinching at my words.

She didn’t answer me. She wasn’t even brave enough to meet my eyes, merely nodded weakly.

“You killed him.”

My mother didn’t flinch this time, her chin tilted upward as she regained her armor of disinterest. My mother was a lot of things, but she wasn’t someone who would take the blame for anything. Especially the things she was guilty of.

“A drug overdose killed him, Nora,” she snipped without an inch of grief. “He was a drug addict.”

“And what turned him into a drug addict?” I sneered. “Who turned him into a drug addict? Who chose her own interests, her manicures, her makeup, her quest for a rich husband, over her son’s warmth, over clothes that fit, his childhood?” My fury rose up inside of me, a hot, scalding thing. “You did that.” I jabbed my finger at her. “You gave him nothing. Not love. Not a home. Nothing for him to grab on to.”

Angry tears were streaming down my face. I was surprised my skin didn’t sizzle. Something was tearing inside of me. Something large, something special and irreplaceable inside of me. It was splintering my insides. The pain was unbearable.

“I paid for his rehab,” she snapped. “Every single time. I paid for therapists. Gave him a place to live. What did you do, Nora?”

She looked around the bakery. “You ran away. To sell cupcakes.” Her words dripped with disdain, the tone shrinking me down like it always did. To make me feel small. Worthless. “You abandoned your brother.”

I backpedaled, the words hitting true. I might’ve actually collapsed on the floor had I not hit something solid. His arms wrapped around my waist, firm, strong. But they didn’t do anything this time, merely held me up.

Rowan passed me, delicately, into the arms of my best friend who I hadn’t realized had also come to stand by my side. Though she was much smaller, she was strong enough to tuck me under her arm, hold me up.

I stared at Rowan’s back as he stepped forward and got right in my mom’s face. Even without seeing his face, I knew he was pissed. From the way he held his shoulders. The way he used his size to intimidate the woman. The Rowan I knew would never do that.

My mother, though a lot of things, was not one to be intimidated easily. Or at all. She was the one who was practiced at doing such things. But she shrank back under what I imagined was the force of Rowan’s murderous glare.

“You’re done.”

He said the two words quietly, almost a murmur. But they seemed to boom through the room, bouncing off the walls.

“You get out of here,” he ordered, still in that hauntingly soft tone that echoed. “You do not contact Nora. Do not talk to her unless she decides she wants to talk to you. And if I ever hear that vile, that toxic, unforgivable shit comin’ out of your mouth again, I’ll ruin your fucking life.”