Page 1 of Truth is the Ultimate Weapon

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“I’m glad you finally figured it out,” Rip said, boxing up items Devyn had set aside for him.

“Figured out what?” Devyn asked as they sat in her mother’s small farmhouse that Devyn hadn’t stepped foot in in months.

Delilah’s cottage, nestled among her treasured flower gardens near the main farmhouse, was a cozy retreat crafted to look like a smaller version of the main home the family shared. It was built as her private sanctuary when she passed on the main house to Cut, allowing him to raise his family there. This smaller abode offered her a tranquil space to enjoy nature and cherish solitude amidst the bustling family and ranch life.

“How you fit in. How you can help around here and show you’re not the little girl your brothers and sister think you are.”

“Ah. That.” Devyn smiled. “Thanks to you.”

“How do you figure?” he asked.

“The other night. The fire pit. You challenged me to be who I want them to see me instead of retreat back within myself and just become the weakest link they think I am. This is it…” she held out her hands, filed with papers, “None of them have the patience or attention to detail to dig through our mothers things and look for the smallest of clues. The lawyer, me, totally does.”

“I’m glad you figured it out.” He said, looking around the space. “You think there’s answers here?”

“No telling. But I’m putting in the time because I have it and at the very least getting reacquainted with my mother, through her things in this space because… it seems I didn’t know her as well as I thought I did.” Devyn’s expression softened, and shoulders slacked as if the weight of this newly realized truth was weighing on her.

“Just like they see you how they remember you –– young, fragile, incapable –– you see her the way you remember. It’s a good idea.”

“I thought so, too. And maybe I’ll be the one that finds that tiny clue that breaks this case wide open.”

“That’s really important to you, isn’t it?”

“What’s important to me?”

“How your siblings view you.”

“Of course it is. When I was little, I just wanted to be included. Now…”

“You just want to be included.” He deadpanned.

“Not entirely. I just want to be seen as an equal now. We aren’t little kids anymore. It isn’t cute to be the baby. I want to be seen just as… their sister.”

“You don’t think they already see you as an equal? Sounds to me like you’re the one they all put on a pedestal. Want to finish school. Do something bigger and better with her life.”

“I don’t think that means I’m their equal. That’s still just raising their little sister. Almost like they’re living vicariously through me, setting me up to succeed in a different arena than they all play in.” her tone changed to one of snark, “Like if I make it, they all make it.”

“You don’t agree with them? You don’t want that to?”

“Quite frankly, I think it’s a load of bullshit, but that’s just me.” She said, pulling another box of documents from a storage closet.

Rip grabbed the box and moved it to a table for her to go through, “You don’t want to be a lawyer?”

“Of course I do, but not because I think it’s better, more successful, or superior in any way. They act like what they do is a bunch of rough-neck blue-collar crap. Don’t get me wrong, there’s nothing wrong with blue collar… or rough necks. What they do is… It’s…”

“It’s what?”

“I don’t know. It’s dangerous, invigorating, insane, and heroic. I mean, you understand. You do what Coy and Dillon do. Not many people get to do something so… honorable and fulfilling. They treat it like something I wouldn’t want to do. Like it’s not good enough. Same with Cut and Nash. They run one of the largest ranches in the State of Texas quite successfully and neither have a fancy degree on the wall nor served in combat zones in random corners of the world. They’re all self-made super humans… then, there’s me. Baby Dev, who isn’t capable of those things, so thank God she’s smart.”

“Or maybe they just don’t want you to have to the things they’ve had to. They want a different path for you. They made those sacrifices so you could…”

“Take an easier path?” she interrupted.

“No, take a different path. If you think law school and becoming a bulldog lawyer is the easy path, then you don’t get it at all. Their sacrifice isn’t out of sympathy –– it’s out of love. It’s a gift that they can give you that they couldn’t give themselves.”

“Nash could have left… He could have gone to school, too.”

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