If given the chance, she’d fight for him, intercede for him. His history was paved with people who’d tried to defend him—his family, his friends. She might fail at defending him, too. But at least she’d go down swinging.

Just ten miles to go and they’d reach her house.

“Can we talk about guilt?” she asked.

“It’s not my favorite subject.”

“And yet guilt is the thing that’s defined the bulk of your life.” No adult, but especially no child, was equipped to bear the guilt of their sibling’s death. “You screwed up,” she said, “when you told your brother to go to the back of the line in El Salvador.”

He cut a shocked glance at her beneath hooded brows.

“I’m sure everyone who’s talked to you about this has tried to tell you that what happened to Ethan wasn’t your fault, but they were wasting their breath. You were there. You lived it. And you’ll never accept that it wasn’t your fault.”

“That’s true,” he said.

“After Chase died, I dealt with a lot of guilt.”

“Why?”

“He rarely wore seat belts. He found them restrictive and uncomfortable. It was a sensory issue with him. So what did I do? Did I research? Did I figure out how he could overcome this sensory issue? Did I talk seriously with him about this? No, I did not. I accepted that he didn’t wear a seat belt. And then he was thrown from his Jeep and died. And I—the person who was supposed to love him above all others—had done nothing to prevent it.”

Several seconds pulled thin.

“Guilt doesn’t respond well to reason,” she continued. “Stating that it doesn’t have a right to exist only increases its power.” The tires rolled quietly beneath them, a steady undertone. “I spent years in therapy. A fortune in therapist’s bills boils down to this fact: Addressing guilt is about acceptance and forgiveness.”

“I’m aware. My parents put me in therapy after the earthquake.”

“Luke Dempsey, every therapist’s dream client,” she teased.

“Finley Sutherland,” he countered seriously, “every therapist’s dream client.”

“That’s true. I really am a dream client. I love talking through these issues.”

“I do not.”

“I’m guessing you’ve had enough time to accept what happened to you.”

“A hundred times over.”

“It’s the forgiveness piece you can’t get past. Had Ethan lived and you’d been able to apologize, and he’d been able to offer you forgiveness, things would have been different.”

“Everything in my life would have been different if Ethan had lived.”