Abby rested her head on his shoulder, saying softly, “I wonder what she’s doing right now.”

Finn grunted, finishing his bourbon. “Who cares? She wants to live out there with the herd of wild horses, that’s up to her.” He moved around to refill his glass. “Makes no difference to me.”

Matt didn’t say anything, only transferred his glass to his other hand and reached to grasp Abby’s arm in a half-hearted embrace.

Morgan was ten when everything fell apart, but they had gotten four years with her. Four years after their father married her mother and moved them into this house. Four years before everything ended in travesty.

Abby murmured again, “I can feel her in this house.” She shivered, looking around. “And it’s weird. It’s as if I can also feel Morgan.” Abby lifted her head, peering at her older brother. “Is Dad coming?”

Matthew shook his head with the slightest of movements. “You know how he is.”

Abby grunted.

They had two days to get the estate into shape because, within the week, actors, grips, the director, producers, and everyone from the catering staff to the actors’ assistants’ assistants would start arriving.

They were coming to film a movie about Morgan’s mother, about how Karen Kellerman was murdered.

Morgan

I saw them.

I was across the valley, standing on my own cliff while they stepped out onto my porch. I knew why they’d come. I went to the same meeting to approve the movie script, but that’d been so long ago.

Shiloh stepped close to me, nuzzling my shoulder. Her black nose, smoky grey coat, and mane rubbed against me. Her mother had almost been like mine, but since Shiloh was foaled, she and I were sisters. She could sense my unease as distinctly as I could.

This movie would be done. They would all go away, and they wouldn’t return. In the meantime, I reached up behind me, grabbed some of Shiloh’s mane and half-jumped, half-lifted myself onto her back.

She turned as soon as I settled, and the rest of the herd lifted their heads. They all turned down the path, heading to the better grazing in the next valley over.

Glancing once more back at my home, I mentally said hello and goodbye at the same time.

I was given human privileges, ones that I never took for granted. My mother’s inheritance granted them to me. I was able to stay where I was. I could avoid humans as much as necessary. Some knew about me. Some whispered about me. Some thought I was a ghost. Only my stepfather, stepsiblings, a few others knew the truth.

One day, I would have to join their world.

That wasn’t today.

I bent and laid my cheek to Shiloh’s back.

Brody

“Brody.” My new manager leaned over from her seat and shook my shoulder lightly. “We’re here. Wake up.”

My sunglasses hid my eyes, so she didn’t see I was already awake. Had been since the plane landed. The touchdown was rough, but it always takes a bit before we got to the private plane hangars for deplaning. No reason to move and upset the hangover headache that was already pressing behind my forehead.

I grunted my acknowledgement before sighing and sitting up.

A ghost of a frown crossed her face, but it was gone as soon as I lifted my head toward Gayle. Her eyebrows pinched together slightly, forming a middle wrinkle in her forehead. I almost grinned at the sight of it. Shelby would’ve panicked at the idea that she could even move her eyebrows. She would’ve fainted at the thought of a wrinkle up there. And that was one of the reasons why I enjoyed working with Gayle over Shelby.

There were others too.

Gayle was in her fifties, wore her greying hair long, and had a whole maternal side mixed with a kick-ass attitude. She didn’t take shit, but I knew she’d come to care for me over the last few months, and I saw how she was with her children. They were adult and grown, but they called almost daily to check in. That spoke volumes.

I knew she was wondering if she should say something about the headache. But she knew why I drank. Her familiar inner conflict shifted to if she said something about the drinking, then what? Then it shifted yet again to a resolute no. I was her client. I wasn’t her kid. If I’d been her kid, she would’ve kicked my ass in gear long ago, but no. She would round back to the fact that I was her client. She managed me. She didn’t raise me.

Or, at least I assumed she was thinking all that. Since replacing Shelby in the managing and publicist aspect, I’d witnessed the storm of expressions play out over her face too many times to count.

In the end, she kept quiet.

Like always.

But the same instinct that told me something was wrong with Kyle also warned me that there’d be a time Gayle wouldn’t keep quiet.

“Will there be water in the car?”

“Of course.” The attendants were already helping with our bags. Gayle turned to thank one as hers were passed to her, and then headed down the aisle. “If you need a painkiller . . .” She let the sentence hang as she disappeared down the stairs and onto the tarmac.

My bag in hand, I nodded my thanks to the pilot and attendants and then dipped down to follow. I had to take the sunglasses off. The sun had been high when we left California, but I was surprised by how dark it was. “There’s a time change, right?”