Mason put the pizzas down on the small table and held out his hand to my mother. “It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Whelan.”

My mother shook his hand, holding it for a moment. “You must be a very special man if my Hannah is letting you into her life. I was starting to worry she’d always be alone. She doesn’t let people in very easily.”

“Mom, can you please not make me sound like some crazy misanthrope?” I groaned. Charlotte laughed. A halting, broken sound, but it was beautiful. I grinned at my sister, rolling my eyes in sibling camaraderie.

My mother tutted under her breath but didn’t make any more embarrassing comments. I held my hand out for Mason, who came to stand beside me.

“Charlotte, this is Mason.” I squeezed his hand. “Mason, this is my sister, Charlotte.” My voice cracked. My eyes felt wet. I wasn’t sure why I was getting so emotional. Perhaps bringing Mason here had been a bad idea.

Mason sat down in the chair beside Charlotte and took her hand ever so gently in his. “I’m happy to finally meet you, Charlotte. Your sister talks a lot about you.”

Charlotte’s green eyes sparkled, the one true sign of life in her face. Her mouth quirked in a caricature of her former smile. “She lies a lot. Don’t believe anything she says.”

Mason laughed, but my stomach twisted. Charlotte’s words hit too close to home for my liking.

Mason gave my sister his complete attention and she seemed to be enjoying it. “It was all good, Charlotte. I promise.”

“You’re very handsome. I can see why Hannah likes you,” Charlotte said in her halting voice, a devilish glint in her eyes.

I snorted. “You’re trying to make me uncomfortable, aren’t you, Char?”

“Well, she’s only speaking the truth.” Mason mugged, grinning wide. He still held on to my sister’s hand.

My heart could barely contain the joy I felt watching him with Charlotte.

Bringing him here had definitely been a bad idea.

I thought of the root kit I had installed on his computer. Of all the lies I told him every single day.

How could I do this to a man who so willingly opened his heart to me? A man who sat with my sister and spoke to her like a person, not an invalid?

What was wrong with me?

For the first time, being Freedom Overdrive didn’t feel like a positive thing. It felt like a burden.

“We brought pizza, Char. You hungry?” I asked, needing to stop the train of thought I found myself on.

Charlotte’s mouth worked in her excitement. “You brought pizza?”

Mason carefully put her hand back on top of the blankets and got to his feet. “Hannah said cheese is your favorite, so we got a large. She warned me you could really put it away,” he said with a chuckle.

“I love cheese pizza,” Charlotte exclaimed as loudly as she could.

Mom and I both laughed. “Well, let me go get some plates. I’ll be right back,” my mother said, heading out into the hallway.

Things were good.

Too good.

It would hurt when they all fell apart.

Chapter 23

Mason

Watching Hannah with her sister was eye-opening.

I had been seeing this woman for over a month and only now felt like I really knew her.

Watching someone with their family gave you incredible insight into the secrets of their heart.

I had known that seeing Hannah and Charlotte together would hurt. That it would remind me of the relationship I was missing. But it also made me happy. Happier than I could remember being in a long time.

Because seeing the love in Hannah’s eyes was worth all the pain I might feel.

I was lucky to be privy to this softer side of Hannah Whelan.

“This is good pizza,” Charlotte said, her mouth covered in sauce. Hannah patiently wiped her face before feeding her another bite.

“Remember to chew carefully,” Hannah reminded her.

Charlotte’s mouth twisted in a way I had come to realize was her attempt at a smile. “I’m not a baby.” Her voice was halting. The inflections out of sync. A little garbled and slurred.

Her body had failed her but her mind was still active. Still alive.

“I know you’re not. I just don’t feel like doing the Heimlich maneuver,” Hannah replied, winking at me.

“Let me fill up your cup,” I offered, taking Hannah’s glass.

“So what exactly do you do, Mason? I wish I could say that I knew things about you, but I don’t,” Mrs. Whelan said, following me to the sink in the corner of the room and waiting as I filled Hannah’s glass. The surprise of my existence was clearly not appreciated by Hannah’s mother.

Hannah was talking with her sister, but she watched us out of the corner of her eye. It was obvious she didn’t like me talking to her mother. Their relationship was labored, that much was apparent. I could understand contentious parental relationships.

“I’m an FBI agent,” I told her.

Mrs. Whelan snorted. “Seriously, what do you do?” she asked again, not believing my answer.

I pulled my badge out of my pocket and handed it to her. Her eyes widened and she turned to Hannah. “You’re dating an FBI agent?”

“So he’s cute and a badass,” Charlotte mumbled around a mouthful of pizza. She started to cough and Hannah immediately sat her up and patted her on the back as if she were an infant. She rubbed up and down, smoothing her sister’s hair back from her face. I brought over the cup of water and handed it to Hannah, who put it to Charlotte’s lips.

“I told you I didn’t want to do the Heimlich maneuver, Char. I wasn’t kidding,” she scolded good-naturedly.

“Charlotte Ann Whelan, you need to be more careful,” Mrs. Whelan fretted, going back to her daughter’s side.

“I hate it when she uses our full names,” Hannah mumbled, rolling her eyes heavenward, and I laughed softly.

“It’s a lovely full name, Charlotte,” I told Hannah’s sister, who seemed pleased with the compliment.

“How long have you been an FBI agent? Do you go after bad guys? Is it like CSI? I love that show!” Mrs. Whelan fired question after question, not giving me much of a chance to answer them.

“Mom, stop it. You know nothing’s like what they show on TV,” Hannah snapped, annoyance on her face.