Colt turned. “It could end any moment. Why waste time thinking?” He meant it as a sort of joke, maybe, but his father gave him a solemn nod.

“I guess watching your mother die in front of you could do that to a kid.”

Colt blinked at him. Then, “She didn’t just die in front of me, Dad. She died because of me.”

A beat, and then his dad opened his mouth, but Colt put up his hand. “No. I’m not a child anymore. I understand that she lived longer than we thought and that any day would be her last. But as a six-year-old, when you ask your mom to play hide-and-seek and you jump on her off the sofa, thinking you’re wrestling, and she goes down and then bleeds to death. Yeah, that sits in your head as your fault.”

“Your mother wouldn’t see it that way. I don’t see it that way.”

“It is what it is, Dad. I knew she was weak. You had taken us all aside and told us she couldn’t roughhouse. But I . . . I was having fun, and I forgot myself.”

“You were six. And she loved playing with you.”

“I was me. I’m a troublemaker, always have been. The good part is that in combat I’m also the guy that does the stuff no one wants to.”

“Like offer yourself up as tribute to distract the guards from an escape attempt.”

Colt stared at his coffee. “It worked, didn’t it? Ranger used Noemi’s escape attempt to get into camp.”

“You nearly died.”

Colt looked up at him. “But it worked.”

His father drew in a breath. “You’re not less than, Colt. You’re just as valuable as any of your brothers.”

He didn’t know why those words felt like fingers, deep in his chest. He swallowed, turned away. “Yeah, I know.”

“I don’t think so. I remember the fight. I remember seeing Dodge. Seeing you. Only one of you ended up in the hospital.”

Colt glanced at the picture. “That was my fault too.”

“Did you even fight back?”

He raised a shoulder. “Enough.”

“To make Dodge angrier.”

He turned. “Listen. It’s over. I apologized. He apologized. We made peace. Why are you digging this up?”

“Because I want you to stop telling yourself that you’re not worth saving.”

Colt’s mouth opened, then closed. His jaw tightened. “You don’t know what I’ve done.”

“That’s the devil talking. He accuses you to keep you from being the person you’re supposed to be.”

“Who am I supposed to be? Ranger? Dodge? I’m not those golden sons, okay?”

“Colt, you are just as amazing as Ranger and Dodge.”

“Ah, Dad, you don’t know—”

“But you are trapped.”

He sighed. “How am I trapped?”

“You’re trapped in guilt. And the devil wants you to believe you’ll never be free.”