Clinton laughs, the sound deep and unbothered. “Worse. I raised her.”
I c***k a smile around a mouthful of food. “Hope’s no walk in the park either.”
She’s more like a rainstorm.
Clinton smirks. “They’re different, those two. Tessa’s got this wild, headstrong fire in her. Always did. She doesn’t ask for permission—just acts. Hope, though? She’s quiet, clever, and stubborn as hell. She watches, waits... then strikes.”
He pauses, letting the silence settle between us.
“But both of them,” he adds, “have this fierce need to be their own person. To help others. It’s in their blood. We’re lucky to have them.”
Ben nods slowly. “Yeah. We are.”
I don’t say it out loud, but I agree.
Lucky and completely screwed. Because loving someone like that means learning how to hold back when every inst
