As his sister headed for the door, Leo let out a curse. He’d screwed this whole situation up so badly, and it was like a bunch of dominos. They just kept smacking into one another and hitting the ground.

“Gia, don’t leave. Please. Come sit down, okay?”

She looked dubious.

“We have ice cream. Chocolate campfire flavor. Want some?”

Leo did something he hadn’t done for a while: said a prayer. Because he needed his sister to know he loved her. That he was on her side. That he was older and wiser and he did have some wisdom to guide her.

Although not about relationships; that was for sure.

Two minutes later, they were both sitting at the little kitchen table. Turned out that Chocolate campfire was a huge hit. With Gia, anyway.

After a few minutes, he pushed his untouched bowl away. “I want to tell you a story about when you were a baby.”

She glanced up at him over the ice cream, her expression still dubious. “Why?”

“Hear me out, okay? When you were, like, eleven months old, you kept trying to walk. You’d hold on to the seat of one of the kitchen chairs, and you’d take a step, then fall right on your butt. Then you’d do it again and again. Until one time…you finally did it. And not just a step or two. Like, a dozen. You were an amazing baby.” He looked at his nearly grown-up sister and smiled. Because he still saw that little toddler in there. “You put all that determination and energy into everything you do, and I couldn’t be more proud to have you as a sister.”

“That’s nice, Leo,” she said in a flat voice. “But I’m not a baby anymore.”

“My point is, you’re determined, and sometimes you think you have to take everything onto your own shoulders. But everything’s not all on you, Gia. I’m back in town now, and I’m here to stay. Dad’s going to be fine. You’ve been here for him, and now, so am I.”

She was listening but not exactly responding. So he kept going so he could say what he really wanted to say.

“Also, I’m glad you have a plan for your future. You have it more together than any teenager I’ve ever known.”

Her eating slowed.

“I have a million pictures of your first steps. Did you know that? I think they’re all in a shoebox somewhere. I’ll find them.”

He looked his almost-grown-up baby sister in the eye. “There’s only one problem, Gia—maybe your plan is too easy. Because life is better when you take risks. When you’re just a little bit scared. When you don’t have everything all figured out. Don’t let fear stop you from doing things that seem a little scary.”