She threw on a bleak smile. “She hit her head.”
Talia’s eyes went wide. “That was it?”
Brooke nodded. “It was a really hard hit. And as tough as our skulls can be,” she knocked her knuckles gently and playfully on the top of Talia’s head, “they’re not like a bike helmet. Which is why we always wear our bike helmets right?”
Talia looked horrified, and Brooke started to wonder if she’d said too much. “That’s terrible,” the little girl said, her voice sad.
“Yeah, it is.”
Talia spun around and wrapped her arms around Brooke’s middle, hugging her tight. “I’m sorry your mom died,” she said again. “And I’m sorry my mom died. And my aunties died. And my dad’s mom—my grandma—died. Why do all the moms have to die?”
“I don’t know, sweetheart,” Brooke said, hugging Talia back and resting her cheek on the top of her head. “It’s not fair, and it doesn’t make any sense.”
They held each other for a while, neither of them said anything. They didn’t need to. They were just two girls who had lost their mothers and were comforting each other.
A rumble from Talia’s belly finally made them break their embrace. A few hot tears had slid down Brooke’s cheeks as they hugged, and she grieved her mother and Talia’s mother. As she grieved for all the mothers who had been snatched from their children, leaving the kids lost and in mourning. Even though her mother had been gone now for over half her life, Brooke would always grieve for her. Always wished things had gone differently and that her mother had listened to her when Brooke begged her to run. To take her and Rocco and leave their father. But her mother had been too scared. She said that Brooke’s dad would always find them. He had control of the money, and he had resources. He’d alienated her from all her family. She had nothing. Nothing but him.
Another gurgle from Talia’s belly made Brooke smile. “I spied double-stuffed Oreos in the cupboard earlier. Do you think your dad would be okay if we had a couple with a big glass of cold milk?”
A spark hit Talia’s face, which, because her dad wasn’t there and she assumed approval, quickly rationed her excitement. “I think he’d be okay with it.”
“All right then, let’s go have some milk and cookies and you can fill me in on this Barnacle kid.”
Talia giggled and hopped off the bed. Brooke stood up, too, and let Talia go ahead of her as she hobbled to the door.
Talia turned the corner and immediately said, “Oh! Hi, Dad. You’re home.”
Brooke’s heart stuttered. She didn’t hear the front door open. How long had he been home? How long had he been upstairs?
Then another revelation hit her. If Clint was home, that meant Rocco was there, too.
Ignoring the trepidation in her chest over Clint hearing her very personal conversation with Talia, Brooke picked up speed and rounded the corner, determined to get down to her brother.
Her gaze locked with Clint’s, and heat swam in the Prussian blue of his irises. His throat undulated on a hard swallow. “Hello.”
“Hello,” she whispered.
“Brooke?” came Rocco’s voice from downstairs.
She blinked, and the trance between her and Clint was severed. “Roc?” she replied with giddiness, side-stepping around Clint to head to the stairs.
“Hang on,” Clint said, rounding on her and scooping her up before she could protest. “Watching you limp like a lame horse is painful.” He spoke with mirth, and he grinned down at her—though wariness swam in his eyes—as he followed Talia down the steps.
“Creek!” Rocco exclaimed when he saw Brooke in Clint’s arms. A quick flash of confusion flickered in his green eyes as his gaze bounced from Clint to Brooke, but he banished his confusion quickly.
“Stono!” Brooke greeted, sliding out of Clint’s arms and taking two careful steps toward her brother, who wrapped his arms around her in a tight bear hug. She squeezed him just as tight. It was hard to believe he was there. In the flesh. Her family. The only one that mattered, anyway.
“Creek?” Talia asked with confusion. “Stono?”
Brooke and Rocco chuckled and broke their embrace. “Creek is another word for brook, and when I couldn’t come up with something equally clever for Rocco, I went with something dumb, and just chose stone and added an O to the end of it. ‘Cause you know, rocks and stones. It’s dumb, but we’ve had these nicknames for each other since we were little kids. Possibly even younger than you.”
Talia snickered. “It is dumb, but I like it.”
Clint shot her a brief scowl, but it didn’t last.
“Talia, this is my brother, Rocco. Rocco, this is Clint’s extremely bright, extremely funny and extremely cheeky daughter, Talia.”
“It’s very nice to meet you, Talia,” Rocco said with a head nod.