Sierra freezes, staring straight ahead while her face twists and I know she’s biting the inside of her cheek. I don’t need to remind her of what a horror show I was, even just two years ago. It wasn’t even a case of falling into the wrong crowd, I justwasthe wrong crowd. Rebelling against everything and everyone that had ever hurt me.
Tessa got me through that time. But now Tessa is gone.
My chest grows heavy as I babble, “I want you to know that I’d love to see more of you. Always. No matter what anyone might say to you. If I don’t… if I can’t see you, then it’s never because I don’t want to. Never.”
My sister’s eyes narrow as she stares at the social worker. The woman checks her watch, and I can tell we’re nearly out of time.
Where does it go? Once we hack through the awkwardness of our initial meeting, the time is sucked away so we barely get the chance to reconnect.
“If they tell me I can’t see you, then I’ll make them regret it,” she says with all the forceful confidence of a child. “They can’t do that to us unless we let them. Say you won’t.”
As if simply wanting a thing could cut through decades of case studies and bureaucracy to allow us a different path forward.
But I can’t deny her. That’s something I’ve never been good at, even when it costs me dearly.
“I promise I won’t.”
She jumps out of the swing to hug me, and with her arms encircling my body, I feel more contentment than at any other time in the world. When the social worker calls time, Sierra clenches tighter and I feel like a monster as I pull her free, then bend so our faces are level. “We’ll see each other again soon, right?”
We start the walk over and I wave to Carla, playing friends. She nods back, but from the bunched muscles along her jawline, I’m guessing she’s not feeling in the best of moods.
She acts like I’m going to shoot up in front of my baby sister. Even at my worst, I made sure Sierra would never see me like that. Like I’d seen my mother.
I open my bag to dig out my bus card and see Zach’s phone sitting there.
“You want an early birthday present?” I move my shoulder, hunching to hide from Carla’s view but pretending it’s because of the wind. “Here you go. You’ll need a—”
“Got it.” The phone disappears from sight. “I’ll send you a text when it’s connected.”
Smart girl. If I didn’t already know we were related, I’d wonder.
“See you next time,” I say, moving away before anyone makes a scene. The social worker chats to Carla, shooting worried glances my way. On the journey home, I try to imagine how their intense conversation went.“She threatened to beat up a boy. A boy! Then she taught Sierra to swear.”
I smile at the pretence, but as the bus struggles through the multitude of stops between me and home, the joy falls away. For all I know, that’s exactly what happened the moment I was out of earshot.
When I get off at my stop, my phone beeps and I smile to see a message from Sierra already.
“Secret phone enabled. Send supplies and soldiers.”
Silly kid. God, how I miss her already.
I stop in at the dairy on the walk home from the bus and pick up a top-up card for her network. I send her the code for twenty dollars I can hardly afford, along with a quick text, “Message received and understood.”
CHAPTERTWELVE
ZACH
Em sitson the edge of my bed while I flick through the photographs Lilac sent me. They’re better than I could have hoped for. The girl’s a natural. If that thought rides in on a sickening wave of protectiveness, I’ll deal. It’s worth it to have these stored in my memory.
She deleted a lot. Or, I should say, she tried to delete them. Luckily, I saw what she was doing and dragged them from her recycle bin into the cloud. I doubt she’ll ever notice. If she hasn’t spied me lurking in her phone’s system yet, chances are she won’t.
My favourite is one she almost got rid of. She smiles into the lens, reaching a hand towards the camera. In the following image, her palm obscures the frame, but in this one, everything is still visible. The teal satin underwear, the lacy bra; those small tits of hers spilling forward until it seems like I could reach through the screen and cup them.
I load in Trent’s number and bite back my jealousy long enough to press send. He’ll love them even more than me. Maybe even get them printed to add to a more permanent collection.
He’s weird like that.
He likes to watch.
