making him clamp his lips shut.
“It’s not stress. There’s something more. I just can’t put my finger on it. Please go see her. I know you’re off for the next few days.”
Wren was probably overreacting as she was known to do, but he’d go see Mom just to placate her. “I’ll call her later this afternoon and ask if I can come over.”
“You shouldn’t even warn her,” Wren said as she rose to her feet. “Just . . . stop by. Catch her so she’s not prepared for your visit. So you can see her in her most natural state.”
“You make her sound like an animal at a zoo. ‘Observe the mother in her most natural habitat,’ ” Lane joked, his smile dying when he saw the glassy sheen to his sister’s eyes.
“I’m serious, Lane. Something’s wrong with her. You’ll know what I’m talking about when you see her.” She sniffed and shook her head, pasting a phony smile on her face. “I should go. Let you go catch up on your sleep or whatever it is you do when you’re off for a few days. You’ll call me after you go see her?”
“Yeah. I’ll call you.” He walked Wren to the front door, locking it firmly once she left. He ran a hand through his hair as he made his way to the bathroom and took a quick shower. Tossed and turned as he lay in bed twenty minutes later, unable to get Wren’s words out of his mind.
Their mother was the glue that kept the Gallagher family together. If something was wrong with her . . .
He didn’t know what they’d do.
“I DON ’ T KNOW how you do that,” Wren muttered when Delilah plopped down in the chair behind her desk that sat opposite Wren’s.
Delilah wiped her sweaty face with a towel she kept expressly for that purpose. “How I do what?”
“Dance like that. I’d collapse within the first five minutes.” Wren shook her head when Delilah laughed. “I’m serious. You keep up with those teenagers like it’s no big deal. You dance circles around them.”
“It’s my favorite class. Hands down.”
When she’d added the hip-hop class to the studio schedule, the response had been overwhelmingly positive. She’d had so many students sign up, she’d ended up dividing the girls by skill and age. Now she led three hip-hop classes every week, and they were by far the best exercise she received out of all the classes she gave.
With more dancers taking classes and becoming more skilled came more possibilities. She’d been contemplating creating a competition team for a while now, and she planned on putting a small one together before school started.
“Well, you’re really good at it.” Wren shot her a look. “But you’re covered in sweat.”
“Good for the soul.” Delilah wiped her face again. “What are you doing here so late anyway?” Some of the girls from her hip-hop three class were still in the studio, but the minute they were gone, Delilah planned on locking up and going home. Wren rarely stayed this late.
“I didn’t want to go home.” Wren shrugged. “I have a lot on my mind.”
Uh-oh. “What’s going on?” At the wariness that crossed Wren’s face, Delilah immediately asked, “Or would you rather not talk about it?”
“No, I definitely want to talk about it. I just hope I’m making a big deal out of nothing.” Wren inhaled deeply, letting her breath out between pursed lips. “It’s my mom. I think she’s . . . sick, but she’s acting like nothing’s wrong.”
Wren proceeded to explain the situation, how her mother didn’t look well and wasn’t behaving right. “I finally stopped by Lane’s house earlier to ask him if he’d go talk to Mom, and he promised he would.”
Delilah sat up straighter at the mention of his name. She’d thrown herself into working at the studio this week on purpose so she wouldn’t think of Lane. And how he hadn’t contacted her, not once, since she last saw him at West and Harper’s place.
She’d figured Lane would at least stop by the studio while he was on patrol, like he