They walked a few steps in silence. The water was close now, audible. Someone in the group ahead laughed at something and the sound scattered in the wind. Malcolm, Vanessa said. Yeah, last night.
What you said about the weight getting lighter? She said it carefully like she was handling something fragile. Did it for you? He considered the honest answer. It changed.
He said it didn't disappear. I don't think it's supposed to disappear, but it redistributes. You find ways to carry it that let you walk normally. He paused. And then one morning, Lily says something about cloud formations, and you realize you laughed, really laughed, without remembering afterward to feel guilty about it.
And that's when you know something has shifted. She was quiet for a long time, long enough that he thought the conversation had ended. Then she said, "I haven't laughed like that in 11 months." He looked at her. She was looking forward at the group ahead, at her family moving through the morning.
You did last night, he said. At dinner, your mother said something and you know, she said quieter. I noticed it after. It surprised me. He didn't say anything else.
She didn't need him to, but her hand as they walked brushed his. Not a grip this time. Just a brush the back of her hand against his brief and entirely unperformed. He didn't react. Neither did she.
They just kept walking. That was the first thing that didn't fit inside any of the rules. By noon, the afternoon had split some family members retreating to rest before the evening others collecting in smaller groups. Clare appeared at Malcolm's elbow as Vanessa was pulled into a conversation with an aunt, and she steered him toward a quieter section of the terrace with the practice efficiency of a woman who had been waiting for this moment since yesterday. Walk with me for 2 minutes, she said.
I won't bite. I'm not worried about biting, he said. Good. Then this will be easy. She stopped at the terrace railing, looked out at the water for a moment, then turned to face him directly.
Clare Caldwell, he had concluded, was the only person in this family who operated without any performance layer whatsoever. What you saw was what was actually happening inside her. It was both refreshing and slightly alarming. How long have you been in love with my sister? Malcolm didn't move.
Didn't blink. We've been together. I didn't ask how long you've been together. I asked how long you've been in love with her. She held his gaze without apology.