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Summary
Euphemia smiles at him, and the kindness in her eyes is so strong, so genuine, that Regulus has to look away, or he’s sure he’ll just start sobbing.
“I know that siblings can be tough. My eldest son, we adopted him, and we never managed to get custody of his younger sister. He still doesn’t know where she is.”
Regulus sniffles. “That must be hard for him.”
“It is. And I’m sure that if his sister had his phone number, he would want her to call.”
“Even after so long?”
Effie chuckles, and that twinkle comes back to her eye. “Probably even if he was old and grey like me.”
Regulus doubts that. After all, Euphemia and Fleamont’s son is a completely different person.
Or,
Regulus loves his life. Really, he does. His work as a park ranger is more successful than he could have ever asked for, he has a long list of friends, new and old, and his newest post on a remote island in Scotland is exactly what he needed for the spring and summer. He does not ever think about calling the phone number scrawled on that scrap of paper from 17 long years ago. Regulus does not ever think about the phone number, and he certainly does not think about his brother.