Page 107 of Where Broken Wings Fly

“Where’s Kill?”

“Convincing Lola not to march in here.”

I shake my head. “That’s the last thing we want Willow to see when she does wake up. This is going to be hard enough to explain as it is.”

“Listen, do you think we should move her?” Micah worries his heavily chewed bottom lip. “Out of Lola’s cabin? She’ll need peace and quiet to recover.”

I’m surprised to hear such a thoughtful idea come from his lips. It’s been a long time since Micah appeared to care about anything but his lifeless hunks of clay and oil paint. The emotion buried in his eyes is too intense to hide.

We’ve always been in tune with each other’s feelings, even as kids. Our father always called it a twin thing. It’s like I knew when Micah needed me, or if he was hurt. When Dad died and he shut down, we lost that precious connection.

But right now, surrounded by the sick and dying, I can feel it flaring to life again. Micah has spent his whole adult life hurting and I can finally see a way out of that onslaught of pain. Willow is his antidote. She’s bringing him back to us.

“You really do like her, don’t you?”

He glances away. “What if I do?”

“She likes you too, Mi.”

“I’m not the only one though, am I?”

We’ve made such a mess of this, ignoring the obvious impending problem for weeks. I was happy to joke with Willow about being a team player, but now we’re at that crossroads, I’m not willing to walk away without her.

“We need to sit down and talk as a family.”

Micah sighs. “That should be a fun chat.”

I look at the sickly pallor of Willow’s bird-like features. “She can’t stay at Lola’s like this. We need her close, where we can keep an eye and help her if she needs it.”

“The other cabin is still empty,” he suggests.

“You really think Killian will go for that?”

Micah shrugs. “Why not?”

“He hasn’t looked inside it for years, not since we moved across the street after the funeral. It probably needs a tonne of work and renovations.”

“We have a spare room until it’s ready.”

Considering, I nod. “I’ll talk to Kill.”

“And what about… everything else?”

Our eyes meet over Willow’s still form. The vivid green depths of our irises perfectly match each other, but we’re so drastically different. I didn’t just lose my father all those years ago. On top of that, I lost my twin too.

He’s right here, but the shy kid I used to play on dirt bikes with outside our childhood home is long gone. We haven’t been real brothers for years. Yet since Willow turned up, there have been glimpses of the person he used to be.

Small flashes of the person I once knew—the odd smile, a hint of life gleaming in his eyes again, socialising and agreeing to eat dinner with us some nights. Willow has snuck into our lives and shaken everything up without meaning to.

“I’m not going to back off, Mi. I like Willow a lot.”

“I don’t want you to.”

“We live in Briar Valley. Things work differently.” I straighten the wire flowing into her arm. “Maybe we can make this thing work between the four of us. It’s something I’ve thought about.”

“You mean like… Doc, Rachel and Miranda?”

“Maybe. We could give it a try.”

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