“Does bouzouki mean you’re going to have sex?”

Her boot slid past the last step. The dance across the hall to keep her balance was not one of her more graceful moments. “No. Not sex. Bouzouki means there’s no such thing as a coincidence in this family.” Dropping her voice as they moved through the apartment, she told him about the sudden decision of an engineer to lead the life of an itinerant musician.

She’d left her guitar leaning against the wall by the mirror. A glance at her watch, certain it was near four or five, informed her it was only just past two. They’d had a busy morning.

“Take me with you.”

Weren’t they past this? “I can’t.”

“I know you can’t take me through the Wood, but if we flew . . .”

The warm strength of Jack below her, the sky roads open and infinite. Charlie shook her head to dump the overwrought anthem she could feel building. “There’s nowhere for you to fly to. I don’t know where I’m going until I leave the Wood and get there.”

“Yeah, I get that, but . . .” He stared at the floor for a moment, then squared his shoulders, folded his arms, and looked her in the eye. “Like I said in the park, I don’t like it when you’re not here.”

Charlie wrapped both hands around the gig bag’s straps so she didn’t reach out and press her palm against his chest over his heart. When did he grow taller than her? She didn’t remember that happening. “If it helps, it’s not just you; it’s a Gale thing.”

“It’s not a Gale thing.”

“Yeah, it is.” Even after four years, there was still a lot about the family he didn’t know. Things the rest of them had internalized so thoroughly, they were never mentioned until minor disasters brought them up. If she could make Jack believe that at least part of what he felt was no more than family feelings, that would be best all around. Convince. Not make. Never that. Charlie glanced toward the stairs. “Allie freaks out when I leave because she wants to tuck everyone she cares about close around her and keep them safe. Classic second circle. But don’t mention that makes you think of her as a giant chicken because she really doesn’t appreciate it.” When Jack didn’t share her smile, she let it drop. “David, well, David doesn’t exactly freak out, he never did, but he’s not happy when his people are outside his sphere of influence. And the aunties freak when I leave because I’m Wild, and they figure sometime I won’t come back.”

“You won’t.”