1

The vase was shattered, long white shards of pottery scattered across the hallway's wooden floor. Declan stood at the base of the stairs, one small fist wrapped around the railing, his mouth hanging open in shock.

Ronan stood among the shards. He wasn't crying, not yet, but Declan could see the blood smeared on the floor around his feet.

"Don't move," Declan said. He was only five years old, but he knew better than to walk on broken glass. A broken vase couldn't be that much different. "I'll move it for you."

Declan knelt on the bottom step and carefully brushed the first few shards away from his brother. The bigger ones were easier, but there were smaller bits that sliced at the soft skin on Declan's hands, and even the larger pieces had sharp edges.

Declan crawled off the bottom step, still sweeping the pieces away with his bare hands, until he reached his little brother. His hands were bleeding and his knees stung. He stood, and Ronan grabbed his wrist with one hand.

"Come on," Declan said. "Mom can get you a Band-Aid for your feet."

o-o-o-o-o

2

Niall and Aurora were arguing. It was a rare enough occurrence that when Declan heard it, he froze outside the family room, then pressed himself to the side of the hallway to listen.

"He's too young," Aurora insisted. "He's ten years old, Niall."

"He's old enough," Niall said. "It's practically the family business. Ronan should see how it's done."

Declan knew what they were talking about now. He knew his father and brother were different. He knew they could dream things, and he knew his father took those things and sold them to dangerous people.

His youngest brother was different, too. But that was another secret.

Declan ducked into the family room and tapped on the doorframe. Niall glanced over his shoulder. Aurora jumped.

"Declan," she said. "Honey, go on and play with your brothers, alright? Mommy and Daddy will be there soon."

Aurora moved toward Declan, meaning to sweep him out the door. He ducked around her arms and said, "Take me with you, Dad."

Aurora and Niall exchanged a long look. Declan straightened his spine and looked his father right in the eye.

"I can help you," he said. "You don't need to bring Ronan. He doesn't know how to handle these people."

"Neither do you, son," Niall said. "You're only twelve."

Declan was eleven, but he didn't say anything.

Niall sighed. Aurora rubbed her hand over her face.

"Alright," Niall said. "Pack a bag, Declan. We leave in the morning."

o-o-o-o-o

3

There were three police officers on the doorstep. It was a little after midnight, and Declan was the only one still downstairs to see them; he very much doubted he was the only one still awake.

When the first knock sounded, Declan opened the front door just wide enough to join the officers on the front porch. He closed the door behind himself and leaned back against it, keeping the officers from the house.

"Are you Mr. Declan Lynch?" one of the officers asked. There were three of them, all in the same blue uniform, shiny badges on chains around their necks.

"Yes," Declan said. "It's very late, and we've had a difficult day. Is there something I can do for you?"

"We were hoping to speak to your brother," the officer said. "I understand he was the first to find the body?"

Declan knew perfectly well that no regular cop would turn up at midnight, asking to see a witness who had already been questioned twice. He didn't know who was paying these three, but he wasn't letting them anywhere near his brother.

"Ronan just saw our father's dead body this morning," Declan said. "He's been questioned twice already today. I've finally gotten him to get some sleep. I would appreciate it if you left him alone."

"I apologize," the officer said, "but I must insist."

Declan raised an eyebrow. "I won't hesitate to call your superiors."

The officers glanced at each other. Declan wasn't sure if they thought he meant their boss, or just the real police, but it didn't matter. As long as they got off the property.

"We'll come back later, Mr. Lynch," the officer said, and then he and his two companions turned and strode off across the lawn. Declan watched them go, then went back inside and latched all three deadbolts behind him.

o-o-o-o-o

4

There was a man waiting for Declan when he got back to the dorm room he shared with Matthew. It was hardly the first time something like this had happened, but this time Matthew was behind him in the hallway. Declan slammed the dorm room door shut, braced his back against it, and said, "Matthew, I need you to go back to the car."

"Why?" Matthew asked. Declan fished the keys from his pocket and passed them to his younger brother.

"Just do it, please. I'll meet you out there in ten minutes. We'll get burgers."

"Oh!" Matthew perked up immediately. "Can Ronan come?"

"He can come if he answers his phone," Declan said, waving Matthew off. He waited until his brother was safely out the building's front door before he stepped back into the doom room.

"Declan Lynch," the man said. He hadn't moved form his spot by the window. "I've come to collect a debt your father owed me."

"I'll see what I can do," Declan said. "If it was for artifacts, the debt died with him."

"It was monetary," the man said. "Your father borrowed thirty thousand dollars from me ten years ago. I need the money."

Declan resisted the urge to sigh in relief. Last time someone had turned up, claiming Niall Lynch owed them something, Declan had almost been shot. At least this one was reasonable.

"There's a drop point on the outskirts of town. Big oak tree, on the road going north," Declan said. "The money will be there tomorrow night."

o-o-o-o-o

5

Declan stood in one of his father's old barns, taking in the piles and boxes of paper and old records around him. Niall had used this space as an office, and before his death, Declan had spent hours in this room, transferring it all to digital spreadsheets.

They were allowed to visit the Barns now. Which meant all of this had to go. The last thing Declan needed was for Ronan to find this and start asking questions.

The last thing Declan needed was for Ronan to have his faith in Niall, the only thing he had left of their father, shattered.

Declan grabbed a big black garbage bag from the box in the corner and reached for the first stack of paper.

o-o-o-o-o

+1

Ronan was sitting at Declan's dining room table, his feet propped up on the polished wood surface. Declan didn't say anything, even though there was mud caked on the bottom of Ronan's shoes.

"Let me get this straight," Declan said. "You're offering to deal with this. Yourself."

"It's fine," Ronan said. "I think I can handle driving fifteen minutes to spring my little brother from school."

Declan raised his eyebrows. "If you crash the car—"

"Fucking hell, Declan. I'm not gonna crash the car." Ronan swung his feet to the ground and stood, stretching his arms over his head. "Besides, you look like a goddamn corpse. I don't trust you to drive Matthew anywhere."

The thing was, Ronan was right. Declan knew perfectly well there were dark circles under his eyes, and that he was starting to slouch in his chair.

He was just so tired.

"Alright," he said. "Thank you, Ronan."

Ronan rolled his eyes and snatched the car keys from the table. "I'll be back." He hesitated on his way out of the dining room.

"What is it?" Declan asked.

Ronan shook his head. "Take a nap. If I find you passed out here when I get back, I'm taking the car for a joyride."

"Don't you dare."

"Watch me." Ronan disappeared down the hallway.

Declan waited until he heard the front door slam shut to bury his head in his arms and close his eyes.

When he woke up, Ronan was in the kitchen, swearing as the microwave beeped. Matthew's laughter, bright and golden, echoed down the hallway.