"We'll find her," Leif said. "We have resources. We have people keeping their ear to the ground. She'll be fine."
"Don't make promises you can't keep," Woody warned.
"I wouldn't dare," Leif said without taking his eyes off me. "Nothing is scarier than an angry woman."
Woody snorted.
"He's never met my mother," Leif said to me. "Only a badass could raise me and my brother. Just between us, I bet Woody's mother was a badass too."
It occurred to me I didn't know anything about Woody's mother. Was she alive? Wolfgang was married twice before me. One ended in divorce. I didn't know about the other one. Honestly, I didn't ask too many questions. He wouldn't have given me the answers. Nor did I care until now.
"My mother was the best," Woody said, glancing down at the floor. "My sister too. Half-sister.”
"Was?" I asked as gently as I could.
"My sister went missing a few years ago. No one knows what happened to her. Except whoever made her go missing. My mother died without knowing what happened to her."
"I'm sorry," I said sincerely.
That was a terrible thing to happen. He'd dispute it, but he was clearly still cut up about it. Of course he was. If someone I loved went missing, and I never knew why, it would eat me alive.
What if I never knew what happened to Savannah? What if she was just…gone?
"Do you think she's…" I asked tentatively.
"Alive?" Woody asked. "Sometimes I think she is. She might walk through the door any minute now. She got stuck on some deserted island where the phone didn't work. She just got rescued, and now she's home. But then I realize how fucking stupid that sounds. If she was alive, she would have contacted me."
A flash of pain crossed his features before he turned away, looking out the window.
"That's so sad," I whispered.
"It explains a few things," Leif said, also keeping his voice low. "If that happened to me, I'd be a grumpy asshole too."
If Woody heard, he gave no indication. He went on looking out toward the street as rain started to splash against the window.
Without thinking, I pushed myself to my feet and made my way over to him. Placing my hands on his shoulders, I pressed my cheek against the center of his back between his shoulder blades.
"I'm sorry that happened to you."
"Don't feel sorry for me," he said gruffly.
"I wouldn't dare," I lied.
Of course I felt sorry for him, and for his mother and sister. Chances were, Wolfgang was the reason she disappeared. If he was, that was a secret he took to his grave.
For a brief moment, I almost regretted that he was dead, if only because he might have been able to give Woody some answers. Would he have, though? I had a feeling Woody had the skills to force the words out of him, if he didn't care about his son enough to volunteer the information.
"Yes, you would," Woody said. "Being nice only gets you hurt, you know."
"Maybe," I said. "But it also gets you friends. People who care about you."
"What if I don't need people caring about me?" he asked.
"I don't believe that," I said. "Everyone needs people. Friends, family. The three of you, you're like brothers to each other."
"Does that make you my sister?" His body rumbled with a bitter laugh.
"Definitely not," I said. "I used to be your stepmother, but I'm not your mother either."