“Maybe we can ask her if she’d be willing to give us lessons,” Genevieve said to her sister, “on how to be persuasive. The ability to persuade people to do what you want would be a fabulous life skill.”

“CeCe’s methods can’t be taught,” Sebastian said. “They’re in her DNA.”

Luke could see Ben on the other side of the space. He was pretty sure this was the first time all five of them had been in a room together since the ruined basement in El Salvador.

Uninvited memories carved into his thoughts.

Ben, hanging on to his optimism even though they were stuck in a dark hole. Natasha, stepping into the mom role, treating the cut on Genevieve’s arm and assuring Sebastian that his head injury would be fine. Genevieve, praying out loud over and over. Sebastian, threatening him if he refused to drink water. Ethan . . . dead.

“Would you mind grabbing me some punch, Sebastian?” Natasha asked. “Dickens liked to drink punch at the holidays with his family.”

“I’d be honored,” Sebastian said dryly, and left.

“Luke looks rightfully confused.” Genevieve gestured to her sister. “Tell him what Dickens has to do with anything, Natasha.”

“A few years back, I kicked off a year of living Austenly. During that time, I tested out a lot of Jane Austen’s habits. Last year, I completed a year of living C. S. Lewisly. And this year I’m doing a year of living Charles Dickensly.”

Luke had no idea what she was talking about. Everything she’d just said sounded like a foreign language.

Sebastian returned with a glass of pink punch. Natasha lifted it. “Cheers.”

“Cheers,” Genevieve echoed.

Luke found Ben and Natasha the easiest to take. Sebastian and Genevieve were harder.

He and Sebastian had butted heads when they were trapped in El Salvador and every time since, whenever they crossed paths.

His reason for disliking Genevieve had nothing to do with her personality and everything to do with the fact that she was the one who should have died—would have died—if Luke hadn’t sent his brother to the back of the line. Because of Luke’s actions, Genevieve had been second to last walking through the basement hallway when the 7.8-magnitude earthquake hit. Luke had pulled her to safety. If she’d been last in line, Ethan was the one he’d have saved.

Genevieve had become a successful Bible study author and speaker. She’d taught hundreds of thousands of women. Her fame made things worse, not better, because Luke knew that some people would look at what she’d achieved and say that she’d survived for a reason . . . that she was destined to make an impact. The implication?

That Ethan had been more disposable than Genevieve.

Which was the opposite of true for Luke and his family.

Ethan had never had a chance to show the impact he could have made as an adult.