Once I was ready, I returned to the crib and Taylor was in my arms again. I went back to the screen and noticed she cleaned herself up. There were still telltale hints of red and puffiness along her face. At least we didn’t look like the crying siblings anymore. Just siblings.

She slapped her hands together a few times in quick succession. It was cultural osmosis from the Volardi. Sometimes when they were highly emotional, they did it. “Well… I do want to put all this behind us, but I figure you’ll find out, anyway. Just promise you won’t cry.”

I said nothing, but my shrug said, ‘I’ll try’.

“Okay. That night, Pa was figuring out what to do about Nate. He wanted to bury him on the North Forty.”

“I’m not opposed to it.”

She mirrored my smile. “Nor I.”

“But he figured that would invite a host of problems.”

“It’s not like Pa to not do something. So, what happened?”

“Well… I’ll get to that but here’s the good part. Obviously, I broke up with him. You were already gone, but I used my steel toe boots right between his legs.”

I winced in response. Back when we were a bickering brother and sister, she kicked me a few times in the shin. Never between the legs though. That was a special level of hell right there. You had to be a real piece of shit to deserve that.

Of course, if anyone was…

Despite the bad memories, or because of them I smiled. “You hit him there?”

“Oh yeah. About sprained my foot when I did it but he ain’t trying that for a long time.” Her voice turned solemn. “You’re a better Omega than you ever were before.” Maybe it was an insult, but it was true. “Figured if you could be a good person, so could I especially since my eighteenth passed.”

“Happy Birthday again,” I said.

“Well, thanks.” She flashed a quick grin. “I’ll see what you got me when we visit.”

My eyebrows rose. “Pa’s coming?”

“I’m working on him… but there’s more to the story.”

I smiled. That was my sister. Long stories and I wouldn’t want it any other way.

“But… anyway. Nate was out of the picture. Still is…”

“Whew. So, he ain’t bothering you?”

Her voice lowered, and my gooseflesh rose. “Peter… he can’t.” Her lips pressed together. “Is this… private?”

I blinked. My sister was willing to admit what she did over the frequency. For this she asked.

“Yes, it’s personal. Diplomatic Channel.”

It took a few seconds before she decided that was fine. “The older military guy showed up. Remember him?”