Finnegan

"Uncle Devin look so much like you,Dad." Angel murmured beside me, staring at the huge picture of my twin brother on the memorial stand.

It was quite disorienting looking at your own face on someone dead.

Devin’s eyes stared back at mine from the frame. He was wearing a black suit that framed his build. His eyes crinkled at the corners with mischief, a smirk tugging at his lips.

"Did you two ever pretend to be each other growing up?" Angel asked, peeking up at me through the black bonnet covering her hair.

"Yeah," I murmured, a sad smile tugging at her lips.

Across the room, Mother was on her knees before Devin’s epithet, her shoulders shaking as she sobbed. Apparently, fifteen years did nothing to dull her grief of losing him.

Victoria knelt beside her, burying her face in Mother’s neck, holding her. Their black dresses pooled around them like some infinite black hole that only surrendered and caved to Devin.

How could she pour that much of herself into someone dead for fifteen years, and yet she had a son standing three feet away that she was trying to destroy?

Even when Mother picked him as her favorite son over me, Devin had still put me through hell sometimes. He was my twin brother after all.

Losing him had gutted me deep, and it still did. I hated that my mother had driven a wedge between us; I hated that it always felt like a competition with him as we got older.

Who could win Mother’s love? Who could please her the most? Who could have Wolfe Corporation all to themselves?

All for what exactly?

A slender hand covered mine, and I glanced down to see my daughter gazing softly at me.

I patted her hair, and she made a silly face, sticking her tongue out at me.

"Stop it," I bit back a smile, and her eyes glinted with mischief, much like my brother’s in the picture.

Mother finally rose, letting go of the epithet. Victoria stood beside her, supporting her elbow. Their eyes were both red-rimmed, faces streaked with tears. They did this every year.

"It’s your turn to talk to him, Finnegan," Mother sniffled, gesturing to the epithet.

Talk to him about what exactly?

"No."

Her chin lifted, her eyes sharpening into a glare. "Finn, we do this every year."

Exactly,we did this every year. I did everything she wanted, every single time, no questions asked, like a fucking zombie.

And what exactly did I get in return? How could she stand there and face me like she hadn’t tried to wreck my life? How could she?!

"I’ll go talk to Uncle Devin on his behalf."

Angel stepped forward, and Mother’s eyes snapped down to her in disgust. Anger surged through my veins. She did not get to look at my daughter like that! "Angel, this is between your father and I."

"You want someone else to talk to him, right, Grandma? I would like to. I never met him, and Dad doesn’t want to right now. You’ve already had your turn, so." She gestured toward the huge hanging picture of Devin, "Unless there’s an order I’m not aware of."

Silence filled the room, and I had to give my baby girl credit. She didn’t flinch one bit when her mother’s eyes narrowed into slits at her.

When Mother remained quiet, Angel turned to the photograph.

"Hi, Uncle Devin. It’s Angel here. I look like my Dad, which means I look like you, which is a bit strange but also...kind of nice, I think." She tilted her head, wringing her hands together.

"You’ve been gone for like fifteen years. I wasn’t born yet, so... Uh, Grandma comes here every year and cries like this, you would probably be a bit mortified about that. It’s been going on for a long time now. I think you’d want her to have lunch or something instead of a day like this."

Victoria gasped while Mother huffed in annoyance. I moved closer to stop Angel when her next words shot like an arrow to my heart.

"I wish she loved my Dad as hard as she loves you,"

"That’s enough." Mother bit out tightly.

Just then, the door to the memorial room flew open. A woman came through it with speed, slightly breathless, entirely dressed in black except for the red lipstick on her lips. Her black trench coat billowed around her as she rushed in.

"Sorry I’m late," She rasped, pushing her sunglasses up into her hair. "Came straight from the airport, the traffic was-"

"Aunt River!"

Angel sprinted across the room, launching herself into River’s arms. River caught her, swinging her slightly, laughing.

"There she is! Look at you in this serious black dress, very chic babygirl. You look very grown up,"

"I have grown up!" Angel shrieked when River tickled her.

My shoulders sagged in relief. It was so good to see my cousin again.

"Hi Aunt Gina, you look well,"

Mother’s face had turned stone cold, and she held her nose up in the air. Victoria stepped forward. "River, it’s good to see you that made it."

River turned to her with a bright, warm smile. "Victoria,you look the same. It is remarkable, isn’t it? How some things just don’t change,"

Victoria’s face paled slightly. River turned to the photograph on the wall, and her eyes softened for a second.

"Looking devilishly handsome as always, Dev," she murmured, then she turned to me.

"You should be shaking in your boots right now, cousin. I’m home."

"Took you long enough," I sighed, and pulled her in for a hug. If anyone understood just how insane the Wolfe family was, it was River.

Angel squealed, trying to burrow in between us, her voice muffled by River’s coat. "Now, can we go to the beach?"

"Before anyone goes anywhere." Mother’s voice rang through the room, causing us to spring apart from each other. "I’d like to speak with you, Finnegan. Alone."