Violet
I had been avoiding the attic. Since Vail had told me what he and Dodie found there, I hadn’t wanted to see it for myself. I thought it would be too hard. I’d opted to go to the hospital instead.
It had been, in retrospect, one of my stupider ideas.
As I pulled down the attic stairs and climbed them, I reminded myself that it wouldn’t be that bad. It was just a few toys. We had stored them here ourselves sometime after Ben went missing, during the weeks and months that blurred into one long, miserable day that had no morning, noon, or night. I couldn’t remember whether we’d emptied Ben’s room before Dad left or after. It didn’t matter anymore.
The crayons and the other things Vail and Dodie had seen were probably a hoax anyway, put on by some unknown grifter who wanted to torture us. I refused to calculate all the ways this was illogical, or the reasons why a stranger breaking into our house to torment us was preferable to the thought of Ben.
I had stuffed a flashlight into the waistband of my jeans because it was dark and there were no lights in the attic. As I climbed to thetop of the ladder, I took out the flashlight and turned it on, moving it in a slow arc around the dusty space.
The Snakes and Ladders game was out of its box, a few of the pieces placed on the board. There was a half-done puzzle next to a heap of unused pieces. Dolls. A coloring book. Blocks. A rubber ball, rolling slowly into a corner as if someone had just put it down and it was slowing to a stop.
I kept my feet on the steps as my throat went dry and my temples pounded. Downstairs, I could hear the TV in the living room.
“Ben?” I said.
There was no answer. I rotated the flashlight again. My palm was sweating, my knuckles aching as I gripped it. Was that a shadow moving in the corner? What about there? Was that something outside the black window, or just a reflection of the light?
I closed my eyes briefly.Ben doesn’t frighten you,I reminded myself.He’s just a little boy. Your brother. He’s never frightened you before, and he doesn’t now.
Sister wasn’t here—at least not right now. I would know if she was here.
I recognized the voices on TV downstairs. Vail and Dodie were watchingMatlockwith the wordsWAKE UPscrawled behind them on the wall while I explored the attic, looking for our long-dead brother. Just a Friday night in the Esmie house.
“Ben,” I said again, but this time it wasn’t a question. I made my legs move, made my feet take the final step into the attic.
This time, when I rotated the flashlight, I forced myself to look with the eyes of someone who had cleaned out dozens of houses. The old crib in the corner, which all of us had used—that was most likely trash, because cribs had safety protections now. If you had an old crib, it turned out, your child could wedge its head through the bars and die. How any of us made it to adulthood was a mystery. Then I pictured Alice and Martin and remembered that some of us didn’t.
So the crib was garbage. There was a dusty box of baby clothes, but baby clothes were cheaper now than they had been in the sixties, so those could likely go, too. Did the puzzle have all of its pieces, and did the board game have all of its dice? They weren’t worth anything, but maybe there was a daycare or primary school that could use donations, or—
There was a familiar glass tinkling sound in the dark. I swiveled the light to see that a purple velvet drawstring bag had tipped over, and marbles were slowly rolling away from it.
And just like that, my fear vanished.
My little brother. My sweet, sweet baby boy.
“It’s okay.” My voice was a rasp through my closed throat as I walked toward the marbles, trying to sound normal, trying to sound like I had all the answers. “Don’t be afraid. I’m here. I’m right here.”
The marbles rolled to a stop. I crouched next to them, then sat all the way down, crossing my legs, tucking my socked feet under the crooks of my knees. I had changed into old shorts and a stretched-out T-shirt, my hair in a ponytail. When I scooped up the marbles, they were cool in my palm. It reminded me of the feel of the stall door in the hospital bathroom where I’d talked to Alice.
“Are you scared?” I asked Ben. “Tell me what you’re scared of, and I’ll fix it. I’m your big sister. I can fix anything.” I tilted my hand, making the marbles roll in my palm, letting their satisfying weight and coolness soothe me. My daughter had never played with marbles. How was I only remembering now how good marbles felt in your hand, how solid and smooth, how perfect? You didn’t have to play with marbles, really. You just had to hold them and look at them to enjoy them.
I put the flashlight down, resting it against a box so it aimed its light at the ceiling. It reflected a diluted glow in that position that lessened the gloom, even in the corners. I watched the light glint onthe glass as I let the marbles drop from one of my palms into the other.
“I miss you,” I told Ben. “I have my own daughter now. Do you already know that? I didn’t do a very good job with her.” I tilted my hands the other way, let the marbles drop back into the first palm. “I think I used all of my mothering up on you. But you asked us to come back, and we came. I came. Tell me the problem, and I’ll take care of it.”
Silence answered me, but I thought he was listening. Maybe it was wishful to think so. Did it matter?
“You can tell me anything,” I said to Ben, “even if it’s about her.” Familiar fear pricked my spine, followed by a curious warmth of relief. Sitting in the dark, talking to my dead little brother, I could tell the truth. Ben understood. If he was here in this house—if he had been here all these years—he already knew.
“I hate her,” I said. “She’s tormented me all my life. I wanted to protect you from her, protect all of you, and I don’t know anymore if that was even possible. I don’t know if it was the right thing to do. All of my decisions are wrong, but I don’t know what the right ones are, and the stakes are so incredibly high.” The words were coming in a rush like an exhale. “Is she hurting you, Ben? You can tell me. It’s gone on long enough. We don’t have to be quiet anymore. I can make it stop. If she’s hurting you, I’ll find a way. Just tell me, please.”
There was only silence as a reply.
“I’m sorry,” I said. I had said the same thing to Alice because she had been my friend, but I was Ben’s big sister, and I owed it to him even more. “I should have been there. You shouldn’t have been alone.”
I let the marbles fall into my other palm again. Then my gaze caught on something and I stopped.
