First on her knees.
Now on the forest floor.
Still, no matter how many soft apologies she whispered.
I couldn't forgive her.
How many times had Daphne tricked me?
How many times had she offered me something warm and kind?
Because she wanted something in return.
I always gave her what she wanted.
Before she showed her true colors.
I was eleven, and Daphne glided into our room. She carried two gifts neatly wrapped in striped paper. A green metallic bow sat atop mine, and I stared at it with uneasy curiosity.
Cade wasted no time tearing into his, already familiar with her guilty cycle of love-bombing and desperate attempts at affection. I waited, eyeing mine with disbelief. His gift was a handheld video game, the newest model. I think she’d gotten him the previous version during her last “filled-with-regret” sober cycle.
“Well, are you going to open yours, Killian?” Daphne asked impatiently.
For me?I wrote in the small notebook I used to communicate since my injury.
“I handed it to you, didn’t I?” Her eyes rolled with irritation, but she took a deep breath, forcing herself to soften. “Listen, I know we don’t always get along, but after your fall… I thought maybe we could turn the tide, so to speak. I saw this and thought of you.”
She used the word "fall" to describe my accident. That was what Daphne had taught us to say. It was the approved version of my father’s fist colliding with my face.
I turned the gift over, found the taped edge, and peeled it carefully. Cade was tense, watching closely, ready to intervene if whatever was inside could somehow hurt me.
The paper fell away, revealing a thick book. Its title read “The Art and History of Origami for Beginners.”
My brows knit together. What exactly about this book reminded her of me? I had no interest in origami. I looked to Cade for clarification.
“I, uh… she asked me what your interests were. I told her your favorite subjects in school are art and history,” he said, pointing to the words on the cover with a shrug.
Daphne’s patience cracked. “Well, do you like it or not? I can always return it,” she said, reaching for the book. I pulled the gift back, pressing it to my chest.
I grabbed the notepad and wrote,Thank you. It’s very nice.
That seemed to satisfy her. She hummed, her lips pressed into a tight smile. “Well, just thought I’d give you boys these little gifts. Don’t stay up too late with them. School in the morning, and then Killian’s doctor’s appointment to get—” she gestured toward my wired jaw, “—all this adjusted.”
She nodded once and left the room, calling out, “Goodnight, boys!” down the hall.
“At least she’s still sober, but what was that?” Cade muttered when she was out of earshot, rolling his eyes as he dropped onto his bed, tossing his gift aside.
I shrugged. Maybe Daphne was dying or something. She had never given me a gift, and certainly never tried to “turn the tide” of our relationship built on years of resentment and cruelty.
Then again, for the past few weeks, she'd been surprisingly… kind.
“If she says ‘fall’ one more time, like you just happened to trip and hit Dad’s fist…”
It’s fine, I signed, flopping onto my bed.
Cade and I developed a secret sign language meant only for each other. It started as a way to communicate while my jaw was wired shut and I couldn’t speak. Our father caught us using it once and forbade it immediately. Daphne always reported back to him, so we had to be cautious around her too. Why he cared so much, I never knew. Maybe because he couldn’t understand us, it made him feel out of control. Whatever the reason, I wasn’t eager to have my jaw realigned again, so I listened.
Cade started laughing across the room. “A book? The Art and History of Origami? What kind of gift is that? I swear, my mother is clueless. Don’t worry, you can have my video game. She got me the same one last time she relapsed.”
