When it was over, Vivian came toward them. A young Black woman of a much lighter complexion than the ebony skin he and Ashley shared whose springy curls which had been died honey-blond that hung around her face, she painted an attractive picture to any man with eyes. She was also younger than both James and Ashley at just twenty-five. His father’s women had seemed to be getting younger and younger as of late. An attractive appearance was as far as it went. James had met her a few times and found her shallow and flirtatious. Ashley didn’t like her either.

“You came.” Her eyes narrowed on Ashley’s outfit. “What are you wearing to your father’s funeral? Do you have no shame?”

Ashley backed into José and for a moment, she looked like that terrified nine-year-old girl facing her father’s anger again to James—an image he’d done his best to erase since they’d put that life behind them. As José gripped her shoulders, James reached for his sister’s hand and squeezed, and it seemed to chase away those old feelings, for she straightened, stepped away from both of them, and looked Vivian in the eye.

“It was him who had no shame.”

Vivian looked taken aback but then quickly changed to the subject. “Are you coming to the house?”

James answered quickly and firmly. He had no desire to enter the house of the woman his father hadn’t bothered to marry, watch her guests drink and reminisce as if Robert Curtis had been a good man, and pretend he actually cared. “No.”

Swiftly, he turned and walked away from the woman. Footsteps behind him—one pair light and quick and another heavier and steady—told him that Ashley and José were following.

In silence, they reached his car. This time, Ashley slid into the backseat with the box of doughnuts José had brought with them and José got into the front passenger seat beside James. When James threw a glance over his shoulder at his sister, she’d opened the box and taken out a chocolate-frosted doughnut out to eat as she stared out of the window.

The drive back to Sequoia Valley and Ashley’s apartment was silent and tense. Not even José, who was usually filled with anecdotes or jokes, spoke. By the time James parked his car next to José’s, Ashley had emptied what had remained in the box. She was the first one out of the car and took off at a run toward the building without looking back.

As José made to leave the car, James placed a hand on his shoulder, stopping him. “Is something going on with you and Ash that I should know about?”

José sighed and knocked his hand away. “If this is where you ask me if we’re dating or something, my answer is the same as last time. Ash is just my friend. She doesn’t date guys like me.”

Before James could respond to that or think of a response, José had left the car. But instead of heading toward his own vehicle, he headed in the same direction that Ashley had disappeared. James didn’t think it was best to go home just yet or that he even wanted to. So he turned off the car, got out, and took the same path that his sister and friend had taken.

By the time he reached the floor his sister’s apartment was on, the door was ajar and both Ashley and José weren’t in sight. When he entered, he found José parked outside Ashley’s bedroom door, trying to make her come out. He only stepped away when he noticed James.

“Tell your sister to come out of her room,” he said. Though he played his role of calm and casual well, there was an undertone of fear and worry in his voice that made James wonder.

He didn’t ask questions. It obviously wasn’t a good time. Instead, he stepped up to the door and knocked on it. “Ash, it’s James. Could you come out?”

“James?” Her voice didn’t sound like herself. It sounded weak and hopeless, as if she was reliving the childhood he wished they could both forget. “Aren’t you going home?”

“Not right now,” he said. “Come out.”

“Before I break the door,” José added from behind him in so casual a manner that James began to wonder if he’d done it before and why.

Thankfully, José didn’t have to implement the threat Ashley probably hadn’t heard. James heard the click of the lock and then the door opened. She emerged, eyes shimmering with tears and her face hollow.

She’d put on a good show at the funeral, but it had obviously shaken her and taken her to places he didn’t want her to go. Without a word, he wrapped his arms around his sister and she buried her face in his chest and cried. When James dared to glance at José, a mixture of pain and helplessness danced in the dark eyes that watched them before José indicated with a jerk of his head that he was heading for the den and then disappeared from sight.

When Ashley recollected herself, she pulled back. “I’m not crying for him,” she said fiercely, as if needing to clarify the point that she’d never cry for Robert Curtis. “I’ll never cry for him! It’s just...” Her voice wobbled. “That...”

“I know, Ash,” he said quietly. “I know.”

She blinked her eyes furiously. “Where’s José?” Her voice carried a hint of expectation, a hint of desperation.

Feeling more confused than ever, he gestured in the direction José had disappeared. Then, as Ashley headed in the direction he’d indicated, he followed.

José had made himself comfortable on the couch in front of Ashley’s TV, where a litter of fluffy kittens playing. He turned to them with an easy grin, as if nothing had happened, and pointed to the screen. “Look, Ash! Don’t kittens make everything better?”