But Allison backed away and smashed into the end table beside the sofa. She tumbled off it and there was a crash.

A stunned Everett looked down to see Allison curled into a ball on the floor.

And there was blood. It came from a nasty gash in her arm—caused by falling onto a glass unicorn figurine that had smashed into dozens of pieces.

Snapping back to brutal reality, Everett bent down to check on her.

“Allison, I’m so sorry . . .”

She waved him away, her blood tricking on the floor. “I’ll be okay.”

He offered a hand. “Let me help you up. Please.”

She shook her head. “I can do this myself.”

Not knowing what to do, Everett began to pick up broken pieces of glass.

“Just leave them be, Everett. Please.”

He looked down at her. “What can I do? Please, just tell me.”

She sat up and used napkins to stanch the blood. “You need to go. Rachel is flying in and should be here any minute. I don’t want her to see me like this.”

“Allison, I don’t know what to say . . .”

“You must leave. Please.”

The desperate look in her eyes left him no choice.

Everett knew he would always do whatever she asked. He left.

It wasn’t until he got home that he discovered the unicorn head in one of his pockets. He realized he must have put it there while cleaning up.

He sat down and stared at the remnant of the figurine in his hand.

And understood things would never be the same with him and Allison.

He could feel what was left of his heart breaking.

In the days that followed, Everett kept waiting for his brother or Rachel to confront him with what he’d done. But neither ever said a word.

He gradually came to the realization that Allison had never told them.

She confirmed it a few months later at a small birthday gathering she’d thrown for Austin. Everett had begged off more invitations than he’d accepted, but knew he had to show up on this particular occasion.

He’d ended up alone in the kitchen with Allison for a few minutes while she was preparing the cake. She looked much frailer but maintained an upbeat mood as always, although Everett knew the dreaded disease was ravaging inside her.

“I never said anything,” she told him.

“I figured as much,” Everett said. “I’m not sure I understand why.”

“You and Austin are brothers,” Allison explained. “You need to take care of each other afterwards.”

She asked him to help her with the cake and that was the last time they ever talked about it.

She was gone a month later.

II

Everett stood in the garret of the Zermatt cottage, studying the broken glass unicorn in his hand.

You and Austin are brothers. You need to take care of each other.