Be careful what you ask for.
When digging deep, you may uncover bodies.
Maisie's life has been falling apart since her older sister went missing years ago without a trace. With a dead father and a mentally unstable mother, the teenage girl ha...
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-MAISIE-
"What?" LOGAN'S TONE resembles one of a toddler. So fragile and small.
"Somebody said something about Felipe coming back to work in his uncle's repair shop in Roxbury," Brody says, calmly. But the way his Adam's apple bobs shows how hard he is working to keep up the facade.
"Logan." Al tries to reach our brother a second too late. Tattooed arms push the island, a stool collides against the floor.
I flinch as I see Logan's eyes. They have become dark. The void inside of him as visible as it was in the day our sister didn't come back home.
"How dare he?" He screams, pacing the kitchen. Saliva spills out of his mouth like poison. "He has walked free. Breathing, working, living while she is still missing. How is that fair?"
Alasdair gets up, his eyes carrying a weight no one of his age should have to. Something between wanting to lose his temper too and needing to maintain his cool so the rest of us can process the news. "You need to calm down," he says through gritted teeth.
"And you need to call the cops," Logan fires back.
"Why?"
My head snaps to the side, watching Finlay with wide eyes.
"What do you mean why?" Logan spats and Al holds him back. Brody also gets up, acting as a shield. I would not be surprised if Logan took a swing at Fin.
My youngest brother scoffs, "He's not a fugitive."
Really, Fin? You have been quiet the entire night and now is the time you decide to open your damn mouth?
"No, he's just the main suspect." Logan shakes his head, hand running through his mouth, "The only suspect in our sister's disappearance."
"He's the only suspect because no one looked anywhere else." Finlay throws his hands up.
Al hits the island, "Stop, both of you."
"So, we're just supposed to let him come back? Like nothing happened? Like he's not dangerous?" Logan pushes, going eye to eye with our oldest brother. "Sure, while we do that, why don't we also invite him into our house again, let him roam around, maybe disappear with Maisie next?"
My throat closes. My head spins. I barely feel Brody's fingers against my arm. It is too cold here.
A scream leaves my mouth when Alasdair pins Logan against the wall, his face red, lips trembling, "I said fucking stop it."
Logan swallows, his tone low, and still deadly sharp, "I'll fucking kill him." Then he shoves Al away, storming out of the room.
"Log—" I try to go after him, but Brody holds me in place.
