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stranger.
    “That’s possible, but it’s not what happened. As her daughter, family heirlooms belong to Akira.”
    Kati’s lower lip pouted. “Mei didn’t even like Akira, and Akira never visited her like we did. Did you see what she wore to Mei’s funeral? That slutty dress didn’t scream mourning to me.”
    Jacob’s eyebrows snapped together. He didn’t recall what Akira had been wearing at her mother’s funeral, because he’d been too busy searching her face for a sign of life. For the first time since he had known her, there had been no sarcastic quip on the tip of her tongue, no mocking tilt to her head as she skewered him. She had looked pale and muted, limply taking his hand and staring right through him as if she barely noticed him.
    She had looked grief-stricken.
    And why not? He had been heartbroken when his mother died not long after Ben was born. He’d had his differences with his flighty father, but Jacob had been sorrowful at Harvey’s death. Akira’s strange and antagonistic relationship with her parents didn’t preclude the possibility she loved them. That she could love someone, other than herself.
    She’s not a monster.
    No. But she was…alone. An island. An entity unto herself.
    At the funeral, the sexual tug he always felt toward her had been subsumed by something larger. Something strange and frightening had urged him to pull her close and get her away from the conservatively decorated service and the nosy mourners.
    Instead, he had mumbled his condolences and sat in the back of the church with his family. Leaving her in the front row on her own, her profile stony.
    Maybe he should have elbowed in and made sure she was okay. If it had been someone else, he might have. But he was certain she didn’t particularly like him, so inflicting himself on her would probably have been the last thing she wanted. That was what he’d continued to tell himself when he occasionally considered seeking her out after the funeral, to ensure she was holding up okay. The Akira he had thought he knew would have been fine…but the Akira he had seen at the funeral? She had needed someone.
    Now that he thought about it…the air of brittleness she’d carried at the funeral remained around her, hadn’t it? Maybe she’d lost weight too. She’d seemed somehow diminished, less robust standing in his cabin.
    He shook his head. Not your concern.
    No, but his sister and her words were.
    “Judging her isn’t your place,” he said quietly. “Plus, she could have been naked, and it wouldn’t give you an excuse to call her slutty.”
    Kati’s eye roll was epic this time. “Ugh, don’t get all saintly on me. Even Mei used to call Akira a slut.”
    His stomach tightened. Not in his presence, she hadn’t.
    It was silly to feel any kind of sympathy for Akira, because he had the feeling she would take it and fling it in his face, but it bloomed regardless. What mother would say that to her child, no matter the problems they might have? How had Akira managed to take that sort of abuse? “I don’t care what Mei said. I have never,” he said, biting off each word, “called any woman a slut, let alone Akira. And I didn’t raise anyone in this family to do so either.”
    Her sigh made her bangs flutter. “Okay, okay. Sorry. I don’t see what the big deal is, but I won’t call that Akira a slut again.”
    His rage was usually a slow-boiling thing, but it was explosive when prodded. Red covered his vision, and he thrust out his hand. “Give me your phone.”
    Kati scowled. “What, why?”
    Normally, he was careful about his size around his little sister, but now he straightened to his full height, uncaring that he loomed over her. “Give it to me.”
    Apprehensive, she dug into her pocket and pulled out a pink, bejeweled phone. He tightened his fist around it, easing up only when the plastic gave a threatening crack.
    It was a struggle to speak coherently past his anger. “When Ben and Connor were younger