The doctor smiled, patient with the barrage of questions. “All babies under thirty-five weeks go to the NICU. Mom and Dad can visit as soon as we evaluate and get him hooked up to the good stuff.”

“How big is he?” Falyn asked.

“I think they said five pounds, five ounces,” the doctor said, smiling when everyone gasped. “A good size, considering.”

“Thank you,” Dad said.

The doctor nodded, in a hurry to get home and get some sleep before what was likely a full day of prenatal appointments. A group of nurses and a doctor wheeled past with an incubator, pausing when they saw us down the hall. America jumped up first, followed by Shepley, and then the rest of us. Camille and Trenton stayed behind, helping Jim to his feet and walking with him down the hall.

We oohed and ahhed over Travis’s youngest son.

“He looks just like Travis!” America said, her eyes filling with tears.

“I don’t know,” Dad said. “I see that stubborn chin sticking out.”

“You’re right,” America said. “That’s definitely Abby’s chin.”

“Hang in there, little guy,” Trenton said, holding tight to his wife.

I wondered what it was like for Trenton and Camille to see us one by one, as we all had our second and third child, and they were still trying. I knew they were happy for Travis and Abby—I could see it on their faces—but I could also see a longing; an ache that wouldn’t go away until they had one of their own.

The nurses wheeled him down the hall, and everyone but America returned to our uncomfortable bench seats. I smiled when I saw Travis tap America on the shoulder, and she threw her arms around him and cried happy tears. They talked for a moment, and then he walked her down to where we sat.

I stood up, shaking his hand a couple of times before giving him a hug. “Congratulations. He’s a good lookin’ boy.”

“That he is,” Travis said. He looked both tired and energized, happy and worried.

“What’d you decide to name ‘em?” Dad asked.

Travis clapped his hands together, already proud of the name. “Carter Travis Maddox.”

Everyone gasped and then laughed with glee.

“That won’t be confusing at all!” Trenton said. Dad smacked him on the back of the head. “Ow!” He rubbed the back of his head. “What’d I say?”

“James, Ezra, Hollis, Eli, Emerson, Gavin, and Carter Maddox,” America said. “Poor Jess, Hadley, and Stella.”

“Ten,” Dad said, sitting up a bit taller. “I have ten grandkids so far.”

“So far,” Trenton said. “We’re going to add to that soon.”

Camille offered a contrived smile. I couldn’t tell if she was tired or had lost hope.

“I’m going to head back,” Travis said.

“Can I go with you?” America asked. Travis nodded; she hopped up, kissed her husband goodbye, and they were gone.

We settled back in our seats for the fourth or fifth round in the short time we’d been there. Everyone was quiet at first, settling in, exhausted and happy to be together. I could still see the shock in Ellie, Falyn, and Taylor’s eyes that I felt. We were feet away from three deaths, and we still weren’t sure how to process it. I wasn’t even sure if we should bring it up.

Dad finally spoke up. “We should all try to get some sleep. Liis will be here in the morning.”

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

TRENTON

“DID YOU KNOW, DAD? About Thomas?” Tyler asked.

“Which part?” he answered.

“That’s he’s FBI.”

I laughed but seemed to be the only one in on the joke. I shook my head. “No way. Tommy’s an FBI agent?” I glanced around, my gaze pausing on my wife. Her cheeks flushed. “You knew?” I asked, hurt.

“Baby,” Camille said, reaching for me. I backed away. A few hours before, I was ready to punch someone if they didn’t let me go get her from work. Now, I wasn’t sure I could look at her. “Dad?” I said. “You knew, too?”

Dad was quiet for a long time and then nodded. “Yes. Since the beginning.”

Tyler frowned. “How?”

Dad shrugged. “I picked up on little things. I do pay attention, you know.”

“What else do you know?” Taylor asked.

Dad smiled and pressed his lips together. “I know everything, son. You’re my boys. It’s my job to know.”

“What are you talking about?” I asked.

“We’re, um,” Taylor began. “We don’t sell insurance.”

Ellie had taken Tyler’s hand before he spoke. “We’re firefighters.”

“No shit,” I said, in shock. “Am I the only one who’s not lying about their career?”

“Well,” Ellie said. “If Thomas isn’t in advertising, then Travis didn’t take over for him.”

Everyone looked around at one another for answers.

Ellie raised her brows. “Or maybe he did, just not as an ad exec.”

“No way,” I said. “Travis a fed?” I glanced at Camille, who looked sheepish. “Are you fucking kidding me?” I stood.

Dad’s brows pulled together. “Trenton. Language.”

“You’ve known all this time about my brothers? And kept it from me? What the fuck, Cami?”

She stood, too, holding out her hands. “It wasn’t my secret to tell.”

“Bullshit,” I said, pointing to the floor. “I’m your husband. You don’t keep secrets from me … about my own brothers. It’s already happened once, and I forgave you, but Cami …” I walked away from her, my hands on my head.

“Trent,” she said, surprise and hurt in her voice.

When I returned to where she stood, I noticed everyone else trying to look everywhere but at us. I’d seen my brothers argue with their wives, and it was always awkward as fuck, but we didn’t have a choice but to stand there and hash it out. I couldn’t yell at Thomas because he was fighting for his life halfway across the country. I couldn’t yell at Travis because he was with his wife who’d just had a new baby. I turned to Camille but just shook my head. Her eyes filled with tears, so I looked away.

I pointed at the twins then set my hands on my hips. I was breathing hard as if I’d just ran a mile up a steep hill. “What if something had happened to you guys? That’s how you’re going to let me find out? Like I did with Tommy?”