“But Rafael…” I glance at him again, sleeping on the couch. “I don’t know how he does it—he has this way of sneaking past every wall I’ve built. Like he sees them, acknowledges them, and then just goes around them. He doesn’t push. Doesn’t demand. Doesn’t come in with bulldozers and demolish them. But somehow, piece by piece, he’s tearing them down.” I let out a soft laugh, shaking my head. “It’s terrifying, honestly. And amazing.”
Quiet joy lights up his expression. “Sounds like he’s good for you.”
“Yeah. Maybe.”
There’s a beat of silence, then, “People kind of expect you to getover it after a while, don’t they?” he says tentatively. “Grief? You get a pass for a few weeks, or months, but then you have to move on. Even if you don’t know how to.”
I draw my knees to my chest, hugging them tightly. The familiar ache of loss spreads through me, settling like an old, unwelcome friend. “People like teachers? Friends?”
He gestures with his pizza slice. “Everyone.”
“Well, for what it’s worth, I don’t think we’ll ever get over it. I guess we’ve learned to live without them, but some part of us will always be mourning.”
His eyes drop to the floor, his head nodding almost imperceptibly.
We’ve never really talked about this, have we? About Mom and Dad. For a while after their deaths, I didn’t speak about them at all. But having this elephant in the room that everyone always tried to tiptoe around was almost worse. At some point, I realized I hadn’t talked about them in so long it almost felt as if I was trying to write them out of my life.
“You know,” I say, my voice softer, “for the longest time, I couldn’t sleep with my phone on. I did at first, but I kept jumping at every notification. I was sure something had happened to you or Paige.”
Ethan rubs his face, his shoulders slumping. “I have troubles with… cars.”
“Really?”
“Yeah.” He glances at me briefly before looking away again. “I get anxious. My therapist gave me these exercises—exposure therapy, she calls it. But I still have trouble even sitting in a parked car.” He laughs, a hollow sound. “I can take the bus, though. It’s weird.”
“It’s not weird at all. I didn’t drive my car for almost two yearsafter they died.” His eyebrows lift in surprise. “When I did, I only went up to twenty miles an hour. Got cursed outloadsof times.”
He sits back, chewing on the inside of his cheek. After a moment, he asks, “Are you ever mad at them? Mom and Dad?”
The air freezes between us. I gape at him, unable to respond.
Grabbing another slice of pizza, he grumbles, “Forget about it.”
“No, I… I get it, Ethan. But they did nothing wrong.”
“I know that. I’m notstupid,” he snaps. “But if it wasn’t for their death, everything would be different.” His voice rises. “They ruined my life, Scarlett. They died, then you were gone, and I had to move with Grandma and Grandpa, change schools, change friends.”
Behind him, Rafael’s eyes flicker open.
“I’m not gone. I’m right here,” I say. Sherlock jumps off the couch and rushes up the stairs as he feels the rise of tension. “I know we’ve been apart for the last five years, but—”
“Oh, give me afuckingbreak!” He stands, his finger jabbing toward me like a deadly weapon. “You let them take me. Why didn’t you come? If I had to move, why didn’t you follow me? I was a kid, for fuck’s sake. I needed my sister.”
I open my mouth, but no words come out.
What can I say? I can’t tell him Grandma and Grandpa didn’t want me there. Throwing them under the bus won’t fix the relationship between Ethan and me, and he’s lost enough already.
“Now they’re shipping me off to Virginia. Becausetheywant nothing to do with me, andyoudon’t want to deal with me. So quit acting like you give a fuck.” He swipes at his cheeks angrily. “You’re worse than them.”
Rafael stands and clears his throat, his hand gripping Ethan’s shoulder in a silent warning.
“V-Virginia?” I stammer, rising to my feet.
Without a word, my brother wrenches himself free, a fire burning in his gaze as he storms toward the door.
“What are you talking about?” My vision blurs with tears. “Virginia? Wait, Ethan—”
Rafael’s hand finds my arm, holding me back as my brother yanks the door open and walks out.
