“Well, well, well, if it isn’t the family Jewels!” Gideon engulfs Jillian in a hug next. She pretends to grumble about how much she hates that nickname, even as she hugs him. “You finally dragged yourself away from whatever thrilling exposé you’re working on?”
“For you, yes,” Jillian says as she ruffles his hair like he’s still a little kid. “Couldn’t miss seeing my favorite Everett sibling.”
Gideon grins. I love seeing that on him—it makes him look like the kid brother I remember from before the accident, the one who used to steal my Halloween candy and blame it on the dog we didn’t have.
We settle into the visiting room, which has been decorated for the approaching holidays with paper snowflakes, a happily decorated tree in the corner, and a slightly crooked menorah on the mantel. Gid
