“I have survivor’s guilt, too,” she said stubbornly. “You’re so consumed with your own problems that you can’t see that anyone else is struggling.”

Spare him. “You never even met Ethan.”

“I don’t need to have met him to have survivor’s guilt. I grew up with him, even though he wasn’t there, and he was so, so perfect—”

“Say anything negative about Ethan, and I’ll toss you out of this car.”

“If you don’t listen to me, I’ll throw myself out!”

Great. His sister was a confrontational drunk.

“Do you know what they call children born after the death of a sibling?” she asked. “Replacement children.”

Luke drew on every bit of patience he had. “You and Hailey were a surprise. Mom and Dad weren’t trying to replace Ethan when they had you.”

“As soon as they had us, we became his replacements.”

“No. I watched Mom and Dad in the years after Ethan died. They grieved, but they also put in a lot of work toward healing. It made their relationship stronger. You’re not going to convince me that they didn’t love and accept you for who you are in your own right.”

“I knew they were comparing me to him in their minds!”

“No. You were comparing yourself to him in your mind.”

“They hyper-idealized Ethan, which is so messed up—”

“No,” he said. “If anyone hyper-idealized him, it was you.”

“And you,” she accused.

The two words struck deep, carving through the center of him.

“How am I supposed to live up to the perfection of my dead brother?” she asked.

“You’re not. Ethan wasn’t perfect. And no one expects you to be anything like him.”

“My counselor said I have unexpressed anger.”

“Really?” Luke asked wryly. “Seems to me like you’re doing a pretty good job of expressing it.” He pulled up in front of their parents’ house. “Are you going to ring the doorbell, or am I?”

“I’m not going to ring the doorbell! I’ll just climb up the chimney and sneak into my bedroom.”

He had no interest in arguing with her when she was sober. He definitely wasn’t going to sit here and argue with her when she was in this state.

He walked to the front door and pressed the bell. His dad answered, wearing sweatpants and an Ohio State T-shirt. “Luke?”

“One of Blair’s friends told me she was drunk at a party. I went and got her.”

“What?” Lines of concern grooved Dad’s face. “She was supposed to be at her friend’s house for a sleepover.”

“She wasn’t.”

“I’ll put my shoes on and be right out.”

Luke neared his truck. All was dark and still. No sign of Blair. He found her hiding on the passenger floorboard.

“Will you please keep what happened tonight secret from them?” she asked.