“He’d want you to know that he doesn’t blame you. He forgives you. You’re his brother, and you would’ve protected him if you’d known the earthquake was coming. But you didn’t know it was coming.” A few seconds passed. “God was the one who took him. Not you or anyone else.”

His heart was thrashing. He had nowhere to hide.

“Here’s what you can do for Ethan now,” she continued in her quiet voice. “You can move forward. He doesn’t want you to feel guilty. He loves you, and he wants you to have a good future. A happy future.” She bit her lip. “We all do.”

Hailey, this sister he hardly knew, had seen him. Maybe everyone saw him . . . and saw through him.

“I’m sorry that I haven’t been there for you,” Luke said. Finley had told him again and again that she wanted him to be there for his family. “I’m going to try to do better.”

“And I’ll keep praying for Finley. I’ve been asking Ethan to put in a good word for her with God. I have a feeling that Ethan is going to insist that she come back. For you.”

His throat went dry.

Blair reappeared. They gathered their things.

“We need to call Mom and tell her we’re done early,” Hailey said.

“Or,” Blair suggested, “we could just stay at the hospital until nine because what Mom doesn’t know won’t hurt her. There’s a donut shop on the first floor.”

Hailey made a skeptical noise.

“Honestly. You’re as obedient as a ventriloquist’s puppet, Hailey.” Blair knocked Luke in the upper arm with her fist. “I want you to know that, seeing as how this is a really lousy time for you, you don’t have to worry about me breaking our deal by drinking or smoking. I might do a little weed. But that’s all.”

He scowled.

She laughed. “See how sensitive I can be?”

They left.

He dragged a chair to Finley’s bedside, held her hand, and watched the steady rise and fall of her chest. The movie screen in his brain replayed the image of her falling out of sight. The image of her lying on the rocky hillside. The image of the chopper drawing her into the air.

Older memories played. Ethan asking him question after question as they’d walked toward the building to store sports equipment. His brother’s face when he’d told him to go to the back of the line. The hallway caving in with slabs of concrete too heavy to survive.

“He’d want you to know that he doesn’t blame you,” Hailey had said. “He forgives you.”

Sorrow built inside Luke.

“He loves you, and he wants you to have a good future.”