He narrows his eyes. “I expect voice memos. With tone. And at least one dramatic reenactment.”
 
 I nod, trying not to grin. “Deal.”
 
 Then I lean in to kiss his cheek and he grins like an idiot. “Go get em, Hemingway.”
 
 “Wrong genre.”
 
 “Nora Roberts then.”
 
 “Much better.”
 
 Once I’ve grabbed my ridiculously sized suitcase from the trunk, Charlie drives off, his arm out of the window, his playlist thumping some overloud rap music he happily mouths along to.
 
 Then I turn toward the house.
 
 The front door opens before I even get there. Six tall men walk out, looking ridiculously handsome, despite their age. And before I can lift my suitcase to carry it up the stairs, my brother Linc – the second youngest, runs down to grab it from me.
 
 But it’s Myles that always makes me feel a little panicky. My oldest, most responsible, and most likely to interrogate me under a spotlight brother, walks over to hug me.
 
 “Francine,” he murmurs. “How was your drive?”
 
 “It was good,” I say, trying to hide my nervousness. “Charlie didn’t kill me so I call that a win.” I look over my shoulder, seeing his car in the distance. “He’s heading to meet up with Ava.” Myles’ wife. Charlie’s mom. “Said he’d see you there tomorrow.”
 
 As soon as I walk into the huge, echoing hallway with its marble floors and wood paneled walls I feel it. The loneliness that used to come over me despite the fact that I was part of a huge family.
 
 Growing up here, with a father that was older than most of my friends’ grandfathers, and a mother who saw her responsibility as taking care of him more than spending time with me, shaped me into the woman I am today.
 
 Strong, yes, or at least I hope so. Independent for sure. But also closed off. Because I learned from an early age that showing weakness and emotions made my family feel uncomfortable.
 
 I know my brothers would hate to know that I always felt left out. They tried to include me in everything. But they were so tight, the six of them. And completely grown up, with wives and families of their own before I was out of elementary school.
 
 I didn’t belong with them, and I didn’t belong in this house either. Which was why I spent so much of my time escaping into books. Pretending to be somewhere else.
 
 Like he can read my mind, and he knows I’m feeling vulnerable, a message arrives from Asher on my phone.
 
 Did you arrive safely? – Asher
 
 It’s brief, unemotional, but completely understandable. He’s got messes of his own to clear up.
 
 I did, despite Charlie’s driving. With my brothers now. I’m going to freshen up then hit them with it. Wish me luck. – Francie x
 
 Less than a heartbeat later, a reply flashes up.
 
 You don’t need luck. You’ve got this. I’ll call you later and you can tell me all about it. – Asher
 
 “You want a drink?” Linc shouts out to me when I walk into the kitchen. He’s at the breakfast bar mixing cocktails. Behind him is a huge picture window with a view of the rolling green hills that stretch down to the lake.
 
 “No she doesn’t,” Myles replies to him, always the biggest, most overprotective brother.
 
 Linc rolls his eyes at me, making me smile. “I’ll get you a soda,” Linc tells me with a wink. “With vodka in it.”
 
 I laugh, because it’s barely five o’clock. “It’s okay. I’m going to freshen up and then I’ll grab something. Are you all staying for dinner?”
 
 Myles nods. “Yes. There’s something we need to talk to you about.”
 
 Immediately my blood runs cold. Do they know about my writing already? Yes, it would save me having to tell them, but they’ll be super mad I didn’t come clean first.
 
 And they don’t seem super mad.