“I’ll call you with the details as soon as I can,” Noah promised. “But now I’ve got to call my boss.”
“Okay. I’m really sorry, Noah.”
“Yeah, I know.” I only wish I could be.
* * * *
Noah’s childhood home seemed larger and more imposing now than it ever did when he was a kid. It glared at him from the veil of trees surrounding him, like it was challenging him. What do you think you’re doing here? You didn’t want to be here before, and I don’t want you now. Go back to California. Go back to where you belong.
But he didn’t turn around. Luke expected him to stay. Luke expected him to plan a funeral, go through the house, make all the appropriate gestures. Luke was waiting for him to do the right thing, and Noah knew he needed to prove himself. He could do the right thing. He didn’t have to run away.