She looked at me, cocked her head. “What if you’re his crazy ex, or a psycho stalker?”

“I’m not. He’s my brother.”

“Didn’t you say he has an English accent?”

“Stepbrother, it’s complicated. Look...” I reminded myself of what Mom used to say about catching more flies with honey than vinegar, and softened my approach, forcing a happy expression and fishing a twenty from my wallet. “I’ll give you another when you call. Deal?”

“Deal,” she’d said, snatching the cash and sliding it into the pocket of her jeans.

I hadn’t been hopeful. Actually I’d assumed I was twenty bucks poorer, which I couldn’t quite afford, but then she’d called, whispering into her phone the man I was looking for was in the store, that I should hurry up and not forget her money. I made a second trip to the gas station, once again breaking multiple laws in the process, fully intent on making the cops chase me all the way if I had to, because until I arrived and found Ash, nothing would make me stop.

And now he was here. For the entire drive back to the house I kept glancing at him, wondering if he was a figment of my imagination and would disappear if I didn’t have one eye on him at all times. Maybe the silver star lights I’d moved to the front room, hoping they’d somehow help him find his way home, had worked after all.

We continued to sit in the car in silence, both of us staring up at the old Victorian house. It had always been considered “quirky” by the locals, including us, but once morning came, Ash would get a better look at the place. Part of me was glad he didn’t remember because he’d realize I hadn’t managed so well with the upkeep, and the house had suffered for it. The siding, once a bright olive green, now resembled an ill-looking gray, like the face of someone about to vomit. The state of the shingles was no better, the candle-snuffer turret no longer proudly sat front and center, and while the multiple layers of paint on the wooden stairs leading to the front porch had been chipped away by our feet for years, they looked worse than ever. I kept telling myself I’d fix the place up, but after Ash had left, the motivation to pick up hammer and nails deserted me as swiftly as he had.