Page 101 of Five Brothers

“But we’re expecting a storm.”

He holds up his phone, and I’m not sure what I’m seeing, but I know it’s Milo, and I know it’s our sister. Liv and Milo. In the same photo. At Krisjen’s house.

I floor it, not even checking traffic before we skid onto the road, hooking an immediate left.

I tell Trace to text Macon, letting him know we’ll be home later. It’s already getting dark, and Dex needs to be picked up at the sitter’s and fed dinner.

I don’t know what Liv—or Krisjen—is thinking right now.

When we pull up to the house, the gate is wide open, the driveway filled with cars.

Trace sighs. “Fuck …”

Yeah.Something is wrong. Krisjen has never had a party at her house. In the time I’ve known her, anyway.

And I can understand if Milo heard about it and showed up, but she was taking a shot of something with him. In the photo posted two hours ago. Two fucking hours. Who knows what’s happened since then?

Liv was there, too—with Clay—after what he did last spring? It doesn’t make sense.

Krisjen also didn’t invite us. She comes to all of our parties.

I pull around the well-manicured trees in the middle of thedriveway and park alongside a black BMW, not caring that I’m blocking them in. We jump out and head to the house, but I veer for the backyard. A couple makes out in the back seat of a convertible, and I do a quick glance around for cops or parents.

Rounding the corner of the house, we slip between two cypresses that make up part of a privacy wall and step onto the back patio.

If you can call it that.

It’s damn near half a football field. Beautiful light-colored stone tile with a pool that almost looks like a Tetris pattern. A square, attached to a rectangle, attached to another square. Trees shade three different seating areas, two of them with firepits. A swarm of partygoers dance and loiter, talking and drinking.

I recognize some faces. Some who graduated with Liv who are back from college for the holiday. Some are even older, and some … way younger.

Krisjen stands waist-deep in the pool, dressed in a yellow bikini, talking to my sister, who leans back into Clay’s arms.

I scan the deck. No Milo.

Trace starts for her, but I shoot out my arm, stopping him. I head over instead, he and Dallas following closely behind.

I approach the edge of the pool, seeing Liv’s eyes dart up first, and Krisjen turning to follow her gaze.

I lock on her face. “What are you doing?” I ask.

She parts her lips, but all she can manage is “Hi.”

Flyaways from the bun on top of her head dance in front of her blue eyes—which are huge as she looks at me right now. A little scared.

Squatting down, I crook my finger, bidding her to come.

She does, slowly, because she knows she’s in trouble.

“I can’t believe they came,” I hear someone say in the pool, but I keep my eyes fixed on Krisjen.

“Is Callum here, too?” Dallas asks.

But Clay chimes in. “Don’t worry about Callum. I don’t think he’s coming back for Thanksgiving.”

Dallas falls silent, and I lower my voice, so only Krisjen can hear. “Did you invite Milo?”

“Not exactly.”