I nod, my eyes swimming with tears, because I know what he was about to say—I just wish Erika were here. And so do I, though I still feel conflicted about how she’d be reacting. I’m not oblivious to the fact that Rhys’s and my stories don’t match up where my sister is concerned. I just haven’t let myself dig into why. It hurts too badly. Still, the dishonesty of the day sits heavy in my stomach. The deception of it all has kept me up the last few nights, along with the knowledge that my husband-to-be is sleeping down in a dank concrete basement.
