Chapter 1
“You took his safety clip. Who paid you to make my son fall?”
My father’s face changed.
That was enough.
The metal clip sat cold in my palm while Finn clung to my shoulder. His harness buckle hung open against his climbing shirt, exactly where the missing clip should have been.
Declan pushed himself upright from the collapsed chalk station.
“Mara, don’t be ridiculous.”
I looked at him.
“You laughed when he fell.”
“He landed two feet.”
“Without the mat.”
“Brielle moved it.”
My eyes went to my niece.
Twelve years old.
White chalk on one sleeve.
No laughter left.
Then I looked back at Patrick.
“Who paid you?”
My father swallowed.
“No one.”
Wrong answer.
I held up the clip.
“Then explain why this was in your pocket.”
Silence.
Finn buried his face against my neck.
Brielle whispered:
“Grandpa said Uncle Finn—”
She stopped.
Declan snapped:
“Brielle.”
I turned toward him.
“Let her finish.”
Patrick closed his eyes.
My niece looked at me with tears beginning to form.
“Grandpa said Finn had to fall before everyone arrived.”
The club became completely still.
Before everyone arrived.
Not a joke.
Not impulsive bullying.
Timing.
I crouched carefully while still holding Finn.
“Why?”
Brielle shook her head.
“He said Dad would understand.”
Declan’s jaw tightened.
There.
He knew more.
I stood.
“Declan.”
He smiled bitterly.
“You think everything is a conspiracy because you run Costello.”
“No.”
I looked at my father.
“I think this is a conspiracy because someone removed safety equipment from a three-year-old and told a child exactly when he needed to fall.”
Patrick finally spoke.
“It was supposed to scare you.”
My blood went cold.
“Into what?”
He looked at Declan.
My brother looked away.
Then Patrick whispered:
“Giving him the chair back.”
Everything inside me stopped.
May you like
Not Finn’s chair.
Mine.
