Remembering that night, I get angry all over again.
I got detention after school for something stupid. I had to stay after for an hour and the whole time I’d been worried about Talya. I’d ridden my bike home so fast, I almost fell twice and nearly got hit by a car crossing a junction.
Our house was huge, a big old mansion behind a closed gate. Dad’s car was gone but Adriana’s wasn’t. I threw my bike on the ground and ran into the house, calling for my sister.
Adriana came out into the hall holding a glass of wine. She’d stared at me in complete silence, rage rippling under her skin. I hated her so much, and the feeling was mutual. She looked up the stairs as I’d stood there, frozen.
Then the sweet sound of my sister’s voice broke me out of it.
I ran up the stairs, found my sister in her room surrounded by her stuffed bears. She flinched when I came in, but a smile broke her face at seeing it was me. I locked the door and hurried over, sitting down and joining the tea party without a fucking care I was a fourteen-year-old boy playing teacups with my baby sister and her dolls.
I was so stressed out from spending all my waking hours watching out for my sister, I’d fallen asleep on the floor. Talya was cuddled up beside me, singing to one of her bears. I’d drifted off to the sweet sound of her voice.
When I’d woken up, cold and alone and disorientated, I’d reached for her, but she wasn’t there. I called out for her, but she was nowhere in her room. Not sure why, but knowing I had to stay quiet, I tiptoed down the hall.
Something hadn’t felt right, and fear raced down my spine. I checked my room, but she wasn’t there. Then I heard Adriana’s voice. Singing a lullaby. She never did that.
My blood ran cold as I crept closer. With shaking hands, I’d pushed the door to the bathroom open. A scream lodged in my throat, my legs and arms began to shake as I stood frozen.
Talya was face down in the bathtub. Our mother was sitting on a chair, brushing her hair and singing. I started forward, to try to save my sister but Adriana got to her feet and stared at me.
“She won’t be a problem anymore.”
That was all she said before she left me alone. I ran to the bathtub and grabbed Talya, lifting her and pulling her onto the floor. I couldn’t do CPR. I didn’t know how to save her, and I screamed and cried as I shook her, knowing that it was too late to even call 911.
Talya was dead.
I sat there for what felt like an eternity, holding her, my clothes soaked right through. I kissed her perfect but freezing cold forehead and squeezed her tight against me, afraid to let her go.
Then my father came home and found us. He’d been shocked and, for a moment, I swore he was heartbroken as he sat beside me and gently ran his hand over her hair.
Then he took her from me, told me it was a terrible accident, that I wasn’t to say anything to the EMTs or police. Momma was sick, and we had to protect her. He said something awful would happen if I dared open my mouth.
I’d railed at him about how he never protected Talya, that she was just a baby. He’d hit me so hard, my lip split. I hated both of them in that moment. They scared me so bad I couldn’t say anything.
My father covered up that my mother murdered her daughter.
“Elias.”
I jolt out of the memory, my heart pounding. King is standing in front of me, a look of concern in his eyes. He doesn’t usually call us by our given name. I am sure it looks like I’m having some kind of panic attack.
I struggle to hold down the food in my stomach, the need to vomit so strong, I gulp for air. King stays back and watches as I get control of myself.
“You good?” he asks after a few minutes.
I nod, not making eye contact. My fucking cheeks are wet, and I swipe at them with the back of my hand. King doesn’t comment. We stand in silence for a while longer as my breathing slows.
“What do you need?” King asks, eventually.
My baby sister back? King is good at a lot of things but bringing people back from the dead isn’t one of them.
The difference between him and my own father was, if he could do it, he would. He would kill anyone who hurt his daughter. He’s done it for Waverley.
If he learned about what my parents did, he’d help me get revenge on them if that was what I wanted. For a long while I had thought about it. Showing up at that mansion with my brothers behind me, taking from them what they took from her.
There were stories about my disappearance for years. Mostly focused on them, how they lost two children in the space of three days. One dead in a horrible accident, the other taken. Because God forbid, they told anyone I disappeared in the middle of the night because of what they did.
They’re fucking miserable and that is enough for me.
