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He gazes at us, where we’re standing, hand in hand, at Ryan’s side. His expression is stern and hard, and I remember Brylee saying he is a military man. Ryan never talked about him.

But something flickers in his gaze, something like amusement. “Brylee and Riddick, I presume.”

Brylee glances at me. I barely stop myself from shrugging.

“You are the ones Ryan just added to his will,” he goes on.

“His will?” I blink. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

“Rid.” Brylee tugs on my hand.

Dawson Senior lowers the surgical mask he’s wearing and a smile tugs on his otherwise grim mouth. “He didn’t tell you.”

“Of course he didn’t…” I want to throttle the man. But I still can’t wrap my mind around what Ryan did. “Why would he include us in his will?”

The smile widens. “My son never tells me much. He doesn’t have to. I can read him like an open book. He’s been happier in these past weeks than ever before. I knew he’d met someone, that he’d let himself open up at last. It took him a long time.” His smile fades. “Since my wife died, Ryan put his life on hold. He was sure he’d die sooner or later. He didn’t want anyone suffering because of it. Not like he did when his mother died.”

“Mr. Dawson…” Brylee starts, her eyes wet and bright.

He puts up a hand to stop her.

“My son loves you, both.” He gives us a shrewd look. “Now you know everything. The rest is up to you.”

Chapter Thirty-Six

Shaved Ice Tumble Pitcher

Ryan

Cold. I’m so cold, and I can’t breathe. I’m drowning, sinking into the lake water, through ice. The dead are watching me, floating around me, trying to catch me with sharp claws.

Can’t. Fucking. Breathe.

I kick at the water, at the ice, swimming toward the surface, but the claws drag me down, trying to keep me in the dark.

“You’re okay,” a voice whispers in my ear. “Calm down. You’re okay, Ryan.”

I sink back down and float in the crystal ice, struggling to draw air, wondering if my heart will give out.

Stupid thought, Ryan. You’re dead. Your heart broke, don’t you remember? It’s all over.

My heart broke. That’s right. It shattered, the pieces too many to be put back together. Yeah, it makes sense, although I don’t remember how that happened. And now I’m alone.

It’s strangely peaceful after that realization. Strangely sad.

Dark and quiet.

Next time I surface I hear more voices. Low and distorted, as it should be here, inside the lake. I don’t understand what they’re saying, but I recognize a face.

Mom.

She smiles down at me, her dark hair loose around her face. “Ryan,” she whispers. “I never thought I’d see you again.”

Neither did I, but it doesn’t matter, because she’s here now.

I missed you, I try to tell her, but I can’t. All the ice in my mouth, in my throat, in my chest. Missed you so fucking much.

“Don’t fight it,” she says. “Easier if you don’t.”


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