Jude had a habit of making up words. Being Jude, he was also optimistic that each and every one would be added to the dictionary, if only he used them regularly enough.

“I have to say, sister mine,” Jude continued seriously, “I think this is shaping up to be the best summer of our lives.”

“You say that every summer.”

“And every summer,” Jude countered, “I am correct!”

The sound of the hushed conversation in the kitchen gave way to silence. I tensed, preparing myself for an explosion. With Cady, it was always calmest right before the storm.

“How dare you come here, unannounced and asking for favors?” Cady’s voice cut through the silence, rising in volume and pitch. Her tone was sharp enough to draw blood, but beneath the anger, I could hear something dark and cavernous. She wasn’t just furious. Inside, she was bleeding. “I came to you,” Cady said roughly. “Do you remember that? Do you remember me begging you to help us find Ash? I would have done anything to get him back, and you wouldn’t even pick up a phone.”

“I loved that boy, same as you did, Cadence, but there are some doors better left closed.”

What doors? I thought. What boy?

For once, Jude didn’t immediately pipe up to put some ridiculously positive spin on the situation. Cady had told us very little about Jude’s father, other than the fact that she’d loved him. Jude had come up with a thousand theories about his “mysterious sire,” each more elaborate than the last, but we’d never heard so much as a name.

I loved that boy, same as you did.

Without meaning to, I leaned my body into Jude’s. He rested his forehead against mine.

“That wasn’t your decision to make,” Cady said down below, and somehow, even though her voice had gotten quiet again, I could hear every word. “It was my life, and my choice, and Ash was worth it to me.”

Another silence stretched out between father and daughter. My body tensed, the way Saskia’s had when I’d given her the command to stay. I knew, logically, that I couldn’t physically protect Cady from an emotional onslaught, but there were some parts of my brain where logic meant nothing.

Cady was mine. Jude was mine. I’d tear this man apart before I let him hurt them.

The touch of something cold and wet on the back of my elbow was the only warning I got before Silver wedged herself between Jude and me. Her ears flicked forward, on high alert.

“Now, ladies,” Jude said, casting a stern glance at both the German shepherd and me. “Physically attacking our mother’s father would be a grandchildly and grandpuppy no-no.”