Charlie shook his head. “Nada, other than the fact that Dad and Charles had the world’s lamest nicknames. You?”
“No, though it looks like I’ve got the first time you were in the ER for shoving something up your nose, and it wasn’t the Lego piece. Or my earring.”
He cocked his head at her.
“Pinto bean,” said Nora.
“Nice.”
They both went for new letters and resumed scouring. Most of the notes seemed to be generic life updates about Martin’s job and family. Nora knew she should scan past this, but she couldn’t help losing herself in the mundane details of the life she’d all butforgotten: childhood milestones, family trips, and ballet recitals all told through the voice of her father. She could practically hear it, rich and soothing like warm milk. The anger she’d felt towards him for leaving this place and its promise of safety faded as she read. Martin Bird might have made a mistake keeping his family from eternal life in Virgo Bay, but he loved them with the ferocity and determination of the ink that still clung to the paper in her hands all these years later. That was a fact impossible to miss. It was the thesis of every letter; it made every period read like an exclamation mark, turned every sentence into a declaration.
But then the tone changed. In the more recent letters, the carefree exuberance of a new father shifted into something darker. The content became less about life outside of Virgo Bay and more about the little world within it. Not because Martin Bird was homesick; quite the opposite. It seemed the more he saw of the world, and life, and death, the more he saw his hometown as the enemy.
Nora sank to the floor and sifted through the remaining letters until she found the very last one, dated less than a week before her parents died. She curled up right there on the rug and let her eyes wash over the words.
Hey Charlie Horse,
Maybe you’re right. You usually are. Tell them I’m sorry for what I have to do. But I do have to do it. I know you’ll understand, even if the others won’t. Life was never meant to be forever.
Virgo Bay is the town that death forgot. But without death there can be no life. I’vewatched Mom and Dad and Grandpa succumb to the monotony of an existence built on fear of the alternative. At least you leave town from time to time, but the rest of them are trapped in purgatory.
Hannah says it’s the kind of place that destroys people. I can’t help but agree. We have this neighbor…I know I promised not to tell anyone about Virgo Bay when I left, but I trust him, we both do. Anyway, when I did, he told us he works for this organization—I can’t get too into it, but they deal with this kind of thing. Death, and what comes after. Remember those files we found in the linen closet when we were kids? I think Mom worked for them too, or something similar. All I know is Virgo Bay is wrong. It shouldn’t exist. And the people at this organization, they can do something about it. I’m going to them. You can’t tell anyone about this. Promise me you’ll hide this letter once you’ve read it. Burn it if that’s not too dramatic. I don’t want anyone to die, I just want you all to live.
Later,
Mars Bar
Nora sucked in what she realized was her first breath since she’d started reading the letter. The room seemed to shift slightly,as if she were on a chair collapsing in slow motion. The secrets revealed in that letter exploded around her like glass, the shards piercing her reality until it shattered too. Someone had told Dad about S.C.Y.T.H.E., and he was going to report the Blind Spot to them. And then he and Mom died, only days after this letter was sent. He’d begged Charles not to let anyone read it, but someone must have. The question was who.
At some point during Nora’s time reading the letter, Jessica had made her way from Charlie’s bed to the floor and was slowly waddling towards Nora. Nora stared at Jessica. Jessica stared at Nora. Then Nora’s eyes widened to saucers in her head, and this time she was the one squawking.
“You!”
Jessica blinked at her. Nora scrambled to her feet.
“You’re the one!”
Charlie sat up on his bed, eyeing Nora with the same look of utter bafflement as the parrot. Nora’s head was spinning. She needed revelations to hit her one at a time. This was frankly excessive.
“Fucking bird,” she hollered at Charlie.
“You’re a Bird too,” said Charlie.
“No,your bird. Look.” Nora shoved the letter she was holding into her brother’s face and pointed to the sign-off. “Mars Bar—have you ever heard anyone call Dad that before?”
“No,” said Charlie, still furrowing his brows.
“No,” said Nora. “Well, I have. I just couldn’t remember who’d said it. But it was her. It was Jessica.”
“Jessica called Dad ‘Mars Bar’?”
“Yes,” Nora practically shouted. “And a neighbor told him about S.C.Y.T.H.E! And Dad wanted to report the town to them!”
“Huh,” said Charlie. Then: “Did you get into my stash?”
Nora groaned and waggled the letter at him again, this time indicating he should actually read the whole thing. She waited until at last Charlie poked his head above it. His expression was enough to tell her he’d read the same words she had.
“Well, fuck.”
