My arm slung around her, hers both fiercely wrapped around me with her looking up at me like I was her very own hero.
It was my graduation photograph. The only picture I still have put out with me in uniform. Before everything started to change.
I’d see that photo, the one of my sister and I, and I’d let my finger off the trigger before removing the pistol from my mouth.
She always called me her hero but on that day of my graduation she now said she would have to share her hero with the rest of the world.
Except I was never a hero.
But the thought of her grieving me, experiencing yet another tragedy, of letting her down one more time, that’s what led me to never swallowing the bullet.
Because as much as I wanted to die I could never do that to Nora.
Feeling the guilt press down on my chest I swallow before answering the call. “Hey, Nora,” I say casually. Like I haven’t been ignoring her. Like I haven’t been killing her inside this past month.
God, I’m such a fucking asshole.
“Ethan!” She exclaims into the phone with surprise. Nora never uses my road name that I’ve given to myself. It’s her way of keeping the brother she knew alive. Reminding me that I am still that person even if he feels like someone else entirely.
“No need to shout. You almost busted my eardrum,” I half joke to her.
She chuckles. I can imagine her rolling her eyes. “If I was there I would be slapping the back of your head so consider that as nothing,” she teases back but I know there’s some truth to it.
“Right,” I reply dryly. “What’s up? Everything okay?”
“I had my brother ignore me for a month so you tell me.”
Fuck.
I swallow again. “Listen, Nora-”
“I know you’re sorry, Ethan. I get it, okay. I do. I understand. But a text once a week wouldn’t kill you.”
“You’re right. I’m sorry,” I sincerely apologize to her. Hating that I’ve managed to let her down once again. “Besides me being an asshole, how are you?”
“I’m great.” The high pitch in her naturally raspy voice tells me otherwise.
Cutting past the bullshit I straight out ask her, “What’s wrong?”
She sighs into the phone. “Nothings wrongper se.”
“You’re talking in riddles, Nora. Is something wrong? Do I need to take care of anything for you?” I soften my voice to not sound abrupt.
She releases a breath and then she says, “I told mom I’m moving out.”
Oh fuck.
“She didn’t take it well.”
“No,” she huffs. “After what happened she wants me to live with her forever.” Nora told our mother about what happened toher. And since then mom took over as her protector. Mother hen would be putting it lightly. Mom became a warrior, protecting her like she’s the queen.
But Nora has been talking to me for quite some time about moving out. She’ll be twenty-six years old soon and wants to regain control of her life again.
“Where will you live?”
“That’s why I’ve been trying to get a hold of you. I wanted to talk to you before I made my final decision.”
“What are you thinking, Nor?”
