They don’t understand.
The twins had been too young to remember when Rowan and Malcolm were kidnapped and missing for three weeks. They only knew their brother through photos.
Rowan remembered everything.
Every year on his birthday, Rowan returned to the woods where she had been found. She and Thor would search for a sign of Malcolm for several hours. Rowan didn’t know exactly what she was looking for, but she’d know it when she saw it.
A small Nike tennis shoe. A silver belt buckle. Bones.
Something.
Rowan’s family thought it was unhealthy, but she found it cleansing. She used to go several times a year—which she finally realized was a bit obsessive—so now she only went on his birthday.
“It’s what I do,” Rowan told Iris. “I need to do it.”
Iris dropped her gaze. “We know.” The twins often used we instead of I, even when they were far apart.
Rowan watched Ivy hug her son.
He’s the same age Malcolm was when he disappeared.
In her memory, Malcolm was strong and confident and represented safety. Not a child. A result of her five-year-old perspective. Rowan couldn’t see her nephew, West, in that way, even though the boy was quite mature for his age.
Her mother’s gaze caught hers in the mirror, uncertainty in her smile. Malcolm’s birthday was always hard for her, but she was the ringleader when it came to making the plans. Rowan suspected having the party comforted her mother the same way returning to the woods comforted Rowan.
Miriam rarely cut hair anymore. She had a few special clients she would make time for, and she still did the bookkeeping for the salon, but her primary profession was watching West while Ivy worked. And she absolutely loved it. Rowan suspected she’d love it even more with a few other grandchildren.
She’d be waiting awhile.
Rowan had no child plans on her current timeline. Iris and her boyfriend hadn’t been together that long—although their relationship seemed quite serious to Rowan. The pair appeared genuinely in love. Ivy’s two-month marriage at the age of twenty had made her extremely picky. Men swarmed, but Ivy was rarely interested.
“I’ll know it when I meet him,” she’d said a dozen times.
Her ex-husband was still in the area, but Ivy had full custody of West. Her ex had been arrested too many times for stupid crimes. Theft. DUI. Domestic assault. Rowan had disliked him on sight, but Ivy had been swept up in a whirlwind romance and dashed to Las Vegas to get married.
Ivy was more practical now—almost too practical and rigid in her life. A contrast to the fanciful Iris.
Miriam approached Rowan’s chair, peered into the bowls of hair color, and then gave an approving nod. “That’s going to look amazing.” She and Iris launched into a detailed discussion about the process, and Rowan tuned them out. She was the only woman in the family not interested in hair.
Not that she didn’t like her hair to look good. But most days it was simply pulled back in a ponytail or in a messy bun on top of her head. Her world revolved around her job and Thor. Her fashion choices were based on the weather. She dressed for heat, rain, or snow. Her closet looked like an REI outdoor store with a few nice dresses thrown in for the occasional date.
“Your dad will be there,” Miriam said.
Rowan blinked, abruptly realizing her mother had addressed her. “Be where?”
Amusement crossed Miriam’s face, making her resemble Rowan more than usual. If she hadn’t looked so similar to her mother in height and coloring, Rowan would have wondered if she’d been adopted. The twins didn’t look like Rowan at all, and their personalities were energetic and bubbly.
Rowan was her mother’s daughter. The two of them were just as driven as the twins, but in a silent, unnoticeable way. They were the type of people who got things done under the radar. Steady. Dependable.
Her father was more like the twins. He’d built his landscaping business in record time during his twenties, accruing contracts with all the large businesses in town. His vibrant personality drew people to him. He had a dozen crews, and he was often found working side by side with them. But he put family above all else, and he was deeply in love with his wife. His face lit up whenever she walked in the room, and his gaze followed her when she left.
Relationship goals.
“I said your father will be at the party. He’ll be back in time,” Miriam said.
“Good,” said Rowan, clueless as to where her father was returning from, yet faintly remembering that there’d been talk of him not making the party. “We’ll do the usual?”