“Catarina, I’m fine.”

August’s twin sister prodded his face, examining him closely for marks or wounds. Her thick curtain of dark hair, now loose of its sleek braid, tickled his nose.

When August had gotten back to the restaurant, she was pacing back and forth and talking with unusual animation on her cell phone. Now, she was worrying in that silent, distant way the three of them did. August swatted her away and she pursed her lips. “That is not a determination for you to make, August. You have demonstrated a remarkable disregard for your own safety in the past.”

His father smoothed down the back of August’s shirt, covertly checking his neck for injury and signaling for their approaching driver to park at the curb. “Did you already speak with the corpsman? Is there anything I need to be concerned about?”

The three of them tucked into the back of the sleek car, deciding to share one side of the spacious cabin unanimously and without a word. It was crowded, but Father had insisted he come home in the family car instead of a rideshare, so no one could complain.  “No, Father. I spoke with him and kept it brief.” August paused. “I did need to…assist Mr. Masters. He was injured.”

His father shot him a furtive look, rolling up the glass pane between the two halves of the car so the driver couldn’t hear them. Their employees were the picture of discretion, but regardless, more ears were always worse than fewer. “Who else knows?”

August slipped his phone out of his pocket. “Only the Masters. The three of them were alone, without Liliana, obviously. Gabriel stepped between us and the crowd, and we were hundreds of feet away from the closest camera crew.” August tapped in his passcode. “Given their relationship to the family, I surmised it was a good move. To solidify our alliance with a family as powerful as this is a rare opportunity. It also allowed me to confirm that Mr. Masters does not have a secondary attribute.”

Blake Wright slide his narrow eyes to his son. “You assessed correctly. But only the Masters can know. And never the full truth.”

“Understood.”

>> Are you and your brother okay? (Delivered: 8:13PM)

>> yes. how is ur family???? (Delivered: 8:23PM)

>> Safe. Let’s meet soon. I’ll explain everything. (Delivered: 8:26PM)

The rest of the drive home was quiet. It always was with his father and sister.

They loved each other. His mother was right. But it moments like this, you would be hard pressed to tell.

They were all too similar. There was something…missing, between the three of them. They didn’t know how to put feelings into words. Not the way his mom excelled at. Not in the way the Masters seemed to. 

Perhaps it was because there was never any vulnerability in what they said. But his father and sister cared in other ways. Catarina pestered him to take care of his physical health with creams and nutritional supplements and therapy. Meanwhile his father insisted on perfection — not to fulfill his own dreams, long since achieved and locked away in that ever-growing trophy cabinet of his — but to protect his children from prying eyes and greedy power players.

Still, August couldn’t help but think back to the anguish in Keegan Masters’ voice, back to the frenetic energy in Dexter Masters’ calls for help. And in some cobwebbed part of himself, buried so deep he could barely tell it was there, he yearned for it, just a little. For the frantic scrabbling of hands that couldn’t hug him fast enough and the agonized wail of a voice that can’t imagine a reality he may not exist in.

“I’m glad you’re safe, son,” Father said quietly, beside him. 

Catarina squeezed his thigh, disguising it as a move to readjust herself in her seat.

For now, for August, that would have to be enough.