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“He wants to tell you he’s sorry, and that he loves you, and I don’t know what else he puts in the letters, but he sends them with such hope on his face.”

Leo heaved, and he brushed away the tears on his cheeks. “Where are these letters?”

“We thought it was for the best,” Asher murmured. “You can have a fresh start here.”

“I don’t want a fresh start if he’s not in it. I’m not going to cut my brother out of my life, not when he’s the only reason I’ve got one.”

Asher bristled. “There’s no need for dramatics. My brother wasn’t perfect, but—”

“I need him,” Leo insisted.

“And he needs you,” Rory finished.

Leo spoke to his aunt. “Let me see him…”

Before she could answer, Asher did.

“No. You’re under eighteen. You need our consent.”

“You can stop me seeing him, but you can’t stop me writing to him.” He turned to Rory. “Right? They can’t stop me from writing to him?”

“No. They can’t.”

“Have you got his letters?” Leo asked, sounding desperate.

Maggie bit her lip. “I kept them for when you turned eighteen.”

“Have you opened them?”

“No.”

“Please let me have them, please.” Leo put his hands together and full-on begged. “Please and let me write to him.”

Maggie gazed at Leo, then nodded. Asher sneered at her, but she threw her hands up in the air and hissed, “They’re brothers. They’ve got no one else.”

Leo bolted back into the house, and Maggie went after him.

Asher shook his head. “Ollie was always a problem child. At school and at home. He’s not a good kid.”

“No. He’s not good, he’s great. Clever, and kind, and fun and fucking amazing at art. He’s gone through more shit than I can imagine.”

“You don’t even know Ollie—”

“I do, and I was so lucky to know him, and Leo is lucky to have him as a brother.”

The door was slammed in his face, and he expected the clunk of a lock, but there was only silence.

Rory prayed he’d done enough.

21

Rory took a deepbreath, then climbed out of the car. He leaned against the side of it, with his eyes fixed on reception. He checked his watch for the fortieth time, then looked back at the door.

He’d spent the past few days in a blur, barely eating, barely sleeping. He knew what was expected of him. He was supposed to phone the hospital, arrange for Erica to be released to him so he could start funeral plans and put her to rest, but he couldn’t do it.

He hoped that once Sebastian was done with him, they’d be buried in the plot beside their father.

The door opened, and Rory straightened. He curled his fingers into his palms hard enough to cut skin when he saw Sebastian.

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