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Everleigh leaps into Mav’s arms, and is that too much to ask for? For the man to quietly show up for his woman. No grand gestures, no flowers, no bets, just emotional security with someone who loves me, and I’m not constantly second-guessing myself because I trusted him way too easily.

I blow out a breath.

“You okay?” Cash whispers.

“Not really,” I whisper back. Everleigh stops kissing her husband long enough for me to walk over and greet my brother-in-law, who eyes Cash warily.

Dex and Ainsley walk up a few moments later, and I’m pretty sure I catch a secret glance between Cash and Dex. Maybe I’m imagining things.

Ainsley moves to hug me, and I hear her whisper, “Holy shit, Cash showed?”

I raise my brows.

“Did you two make up?” she whispers while Dex greets Cash, distracting him from our conversation.

I shake my head, and her brows push together. This isn’t the time nor the place for this conversation.

Archer, Madden, and Liam all walk up with their significant others a few moments later.

That’s it. All seven of us are here…all with our significant others, even if mine is currently a husband in name only and I haven’t spoken to him in four days.

We murmur in quiet conversation, and I’m frankly surprised everyone showed up today. It’s decent timing for my football brothers since it’s a Tuesday, and Archer’s season is over with a two-day break before playoffs are set to begin.

We all made it. We all showed up, and it feels like we all showed up today to be here for each other and less so for my dad, who we’ve all got different reasons to hold a grudge against.

The bailiff opens the doors, and we head into the courtroom, choosing the hard benches just behind the gate separating us from the lawyers. We take up two entire rows with all fourteen of us here.

Paul arrives and says something to Madden before he takes his seat at the table, and the prosecuting attorney is here, too. A door opens, and a deputy brings Dad in.

“All rise,” the bailiff says, and we all stand as the judge walks into the room.

“You may be seated,” the judge says. “Today we’re sentencing the matter of the State of Illinois versus Thomas Bradley. Which attorneys are present?”

They each stand and state their names.

“And everyone has read the pre-sentence report?” the judge asks.

The attorneys both nod.

“Mr. Bradley, please rise.”

Dad stands, and the judge continues.

“Mr. Bradley, you’ve been found guilty of conspiracy, operating an illegal gambling operation, and money laundering as part of a sustained criminal operation. You used your wealth and your family, many of whom are present here today, as part of your operation. I’ve considered the arguments again along with the sentencing guidelines, and it is the judgment of this court that the defendant is hereby committed to federal prison for a term of one hundred twenty months.”

One hundred twenty months.

That’s ten years.

Ten years.

Cash grabs my hand and squeezes it. He’s here. He’s by my side today.

I hear a gasp from somewhere nearby me. Everleigh, maybe.

My dad is going to prison for ten years. He’ll be seventy years old when he gets out.

I’ll be thirty-two. Madden will be forty-seven. The rest of our siblings will fall somewhere in between there.