“I expected something like this from the boys, but not Quinn,” he said in defeat.
Heavy footfalls made me flinch, and I turned my attention to the top of the stairs as Carter came down.
“Eavesdropping, Quinn?”
I threw him the finger, ready to lock myself in my room until next summer.
“Come with me,” he said.
“I can’t. I’m supposed to be in my room.”
Carter peered around the bannister. “They won’t know.”
I arched a brow and shook my head. “Yes, they will.”
“I’ll take the blame,” he said.
I didn’t want to be alone, and I wouldn’t be able to sleep until I knew Celia was going to be okay.
I huffed. “Fine. If Daddy doubles my punishment, I’ll make sure Brianna knows the real you.”
He chuckled as he flicked his head to the front door. “Let’s go.”
I debated for a second before I followed Carter out the door and onto the porch. “Where are we going?”
“Do you want to see Celia or not?”
I glanced at my jersey-fabric shorts and T-shirt.
Carter angled his head. “You look fine.”
If I went back inside, I wouldn’t get a chance to see Celia. At least I was wearing a bra, and I did have on flip-flops.
Carter’s gaze drifted past me. “Your window is closing, sis.”
I didn’t know why he was doing this for me. Daddy would lay into him as hard as he had me.
I sighed heavily. I might be banging another nail into my coffin, but I had to be there for Celia. If the tables were turned, she would jump through hell to be there for me.
I ran down the porch steps and climbed into his truck. I would take whatever additional punishment Daddy handed down.
Mom had her laptop on her legs, glasses perched on her nose, and a cup of coffee in her hands as she read something on her computer screen.
I stepped down off the last step and onto our worn wooden floor. “You’re up early for a Sunday.”
The only room Mom had not renovated in our new farmhouse was the family room. It was the one area where we spent the most time, and she didn’t see any reason to put money into new floors or furniture, since we were kids who had accidents and played rough.
“Too hot to sleep,” she said, not glancing up from her screen. “I should be saying the same to you. You kids never get up before nine, and it’s only seven thirty.”
I wound my way around one of two couches and a chair then dropped down next to her. “I thought the summers in North Carolina and Texas were brutal.” I yawned.
She tapped a key on her computer. “We had air-conditioned homes when we lived there. It’s too expensive to have the house outfitted for it here. Besides, I want to put my money into a new heating system before winter sets in. The fireplace in this room only heats up this area.”
I eyed the stone fireplace, which was tall enough for my younger sisters and brothers to walk into. Mom had used it quite a bit last winter right after we’d moved in.
I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes, squinting at the rays of sun spilling in through one of three windows facing the front yard.
My mind drifted to the night before as I listened to Mom’s fingers fly over her keyboard.
