s idea of a welcome-home party for Ethan Scott. He stood beside me, his hand re

I saw

ha

boy I remembered. He was harder, broader in the shoulders, with a scar tracing his left eyebrow. He had gone to th

y. For a second, we were just two kids again, on a rooftop in Queens, plannin

ing, a drink in his hand. Ethan walked through the crowd a

nt room. "I' ve been away a long time. I've done what was asked of me.

went i

ecame a mask of pure fury. The hand on my back

whispered, his voi

hiskey bottle in his hand against a nearby tab

u," Caleb snarled,

self between them. I put a ca

t being traditional." I turned to the room, my expression

ge as something else entirely. "You're just being an over

s trapped by my words, by the public setting

breath and forced a

ritted teeth. "Overprotect

w this was far from over. I