Greya's POV...

Alec!"

I quickly cover my mouth and glance back, making sure Lox is still asleep on the couch.

"Liam," I whisper instead.

As soon as he drops his book bag, I lunge at him, wrapping him in a hug I've wanted to give all day.

He hugs me back just as tightly.
"Greya, I'm so sorry! I'm sorry we had to leave you that night, wondering what happened... I can't imagine what you've been through," he says.

I break away slightly to wipe my tears. Of course, I'm crying again.

"What I've been through? What about you and B... I mean Lox!" I whisper, careful not to wake him.

"Let's go outside to talk," he suggests, glancing at his brother before we head out the door.

We sit on the front steps.

"What if he hears us or comes out?" I whisper again.

Liam chuckles softly. "Don't worry. I can hear him a mile away. He isn't exactly light on his feet these days."

He has a sense of humor about it. Maybe it's how he copes. I'd like to bawl my eyes out watching Loxley struggle, but Liam... he just keeps going.

"The Collins explained everything. You don't have to retell it. How are you, though? You've been dealing with this all alone."

"Yeah... I'm okay, I guess. The past few years have been hard—mostly for Lox." Hearing him call Becker "Lox" still feels strange.

I grab his hand and squeeze. "You're not alone anymore. You're back with all of us, and we're all going to help from now on."

"That's what I hoped when the Collins helped us get into UCLA. I just worried about how you'd react... seeing him." He gestures back toward the house.

"I thought I'd fallen off the deep end when he showed up in my first class," I admit, and we both chuckle.

"There's so much I need to tell you, Grey... so much Loxley's been through, and still is. He doesn't remember anything. I've kept it that way because I want him to be happy. He doesn't need to know how messy things were before this—or that Jack abused him, or that our mother left us. Yeah, he needs help, but he's happier not knowing the past."

"He must ask you about his life. What do you tell him?"

"I lie... mostly. I know it's wrong, but I tell him we had a normal, boring life. I tell him our father left us when I was a baby. Our mother raised us alone. We played sports, did homework, normal kid stuff."

"And he thinks he was in a car accident that night?" I ask to reconfirm.

Liam nods. "He was in a coma for a while. Almost didn't make it. When he woke, he was scared and confused. Mom couldn't handle the guilt. She blamed herself. Barely visited. I was there every day. I told him I was his brother. Since I was always there, he learned to trust me."

Tears form in his eyes. I squeeze his hand, urging him to continue.

"He suffered a stroke early on after the coma. He couldn't speak, could only move his right arm. He kept touching the surgical scar, like he was asking me what happened. The agent in charge, Mom, and I came up with the story: he was hit by a drunk driver after practice. We've stuck to it to protect him, protect us. His real father's in prison now, but he has connections—we can't risk him learning the truth. So everyone forgets. We're Loxley and Liam now."

I hug him again as he wipes his tears.

"I'm planning on telling Chase and Fynn tonight and the rest of the gang this weekend. I don't want Chase meeting either of you until he's comfortable using your new names."

"Thanks, Grey. I was nervous he'd recognize us at your game. I pretended to be sick to get Loxley out. How's Chase? I miss him."

"He's not so little anymore. He really missed you. Took it hard when he lost you, but he's bounced back faster than the rest of us. I hope he takes the news well tonight."

We sit in quiet reflection. Liam has become remarkable—selfless, protective, patient. The definition of love in action.

"What happened to your mother?" I ask, aghast she could leave them again.

"I don't know," he shrugs. "She was paranoid. After years in hiding, coming back was too much. She watched me feed him, dress him, help him... never once helped herself. Once Vincent was in jail, she left again. I turned 18—no longer needed a guardian." He shrugs like it's nothing.

"I'm so sorry she left you."

"Honestly? It's better this way. She wasn't a mother growing up, so I didn't miss her. Lox thinks she left because of his injury, so convincing him otherwise is hard."

I feel my insides crumble. I never should've let Becker go that night. Never again. They will never be alone. And even if Lox will only be my friend, I'll be whatever he needs me to be.

"Thanks for taking care of him today. I know it must be hard with him not remembering you. He needs you, Grey. Don't give up. Inside, he's still the same Becker you loved."

"I've always loved him—even when I thought he was gone. Yes, it's hard seeing him now, but I won't give up on him or you. You're part of us, always."

He hugs me again.

"Tell me more about his TBI and his stroke," I say, wanting to help him.

"Hmm..." he hums. "Not easy. His neurologists can't always explain his recovery. Brain injuries are complicated. His bullet wound and stroke affected the left side most. Took over a year to stand, then another six months to walk. Setbacks happen. Good days, he can walk without a cane. Bad days... not so much. His left arm—muscle contractures. Locks up. Not strong enough for two crutches. He has seizures, medication helps, but stress triggers them. His right side's stronger—brain's reconnecting. Everything takes time."

I'm in awe. How does he make it through the day? That's my B—brave, strong, resilient.

"What about therapy?" I ask.

"Used to be daily PT, OT, speech. Now only once a week—they say he's peaked. I don't agree. We have equipment at home, I help him. Stutter exercises too. He's embarrassed by his voice, but it improves when he's relaxed."

A small victory: "He's fully continent and showers mostly on his own," he chuckles.

I laugh at the surprise on my face.

"Thanks for telling me all this. I need to go—Chase is waiting, and I have practice. Give Lox my cell number, and keep it too. Call or text anytime."

"Thanks, Grey. Here's mine and Lox's," he types the numbers into my phone.

We stand, embracing once more.

"You've done an incredible job taking care of him. I'm sure he's proud. I know I am."

"I hope it goes well with Chase tonight. Can't wait to see him again."

"Me too, Liam. Me too."