Not only is he going to die, but it’s going to hurt like hell.
Clara once again takes over, as I’m sure I’m transparent as hell. There’s no way I can mask this amount of rage.
“We were as surprised as you were to hear about your parents.”
“She said she’d wanted to leave since before I was born, but that Father had something on her. I asked her why we weren’t hurt like you, Archie, and she said she had something on Father, too. But she’s weird right now. Like, frozen over. The only emotion she’s shown is when I try to leave her friend’s penthouse. Then she’s a volcano. It’s kind of freaky.”
“Everybody deals with trauma differently,” I mutter, wishing I had something better to say, but still barely able to follow the conversation over the inferno boiling inside me.
Clara speaks almost at the same time. “What kind of freaky?”
Mattie tries another sip of the cocoa. “Like she’s cracked open, but I can’t tell if this is a transition to something better, or if she’s about to burn down the world, consequences be damned. She’s spending all day scrolling for news on Father and then being annoyed when there isn’t much gossip besides what happened to your dad, Clara. God, I’m so sorry. I was such a bitch to you. To both of you. You freaked me out, and Bry said that it sounded like you two were dangerous, and you are, but I should have known better. It’s Father that makes people do terrible, desperate things. He breaks everybody. Of course he broke you two as well.”
A shuddered breath warns of more tears, but she shakes her head, tossing the emotion aside with the capacity of anexpert. “I’m sorry I pushed you both away. I wish I’d had a conversation instead of assuming the worst.”
Clara offers another hug, and Mattie takes it. “You’re fine. That place is awful, and your father made all of us into versions of ourselves we’d rather not know. But being scared is normal. Everything you did was perfectly normal. And I, for one, have no intention of holding any of it against you.”
Mattie nods, her phone buzzing in her pocket. “Ugh. That’s bound to be Mom.”
“Tell her you’re okay. We can bring you back if you’d like.”
Mattie taps out a message, not answering. “That would be good.”
Jansen shouts from the kitchen, “Clara and I were going shopping, so we can take you.”
“Was he…”
Clara laughs. “Assume the unexpected with Jansen. Eavesdropping is small potatoes to him. Do you want a moment with Trips?” she asks as she stands, collecting the cups onto the tray.
Mattie glances at me, her jaw locking in an expression I’m more likely to see in my reflection than on my baby sister’s face. “Yeah. That’d be good.”
Once it’s just the two of us, she taps the couch, inviting me to take the spot Clara just left. I take it, Mattie turning sideways, legs crossed and sleeves pulled down over her fists. “Are you going to kill him?” she whispers, glancing at the door Clara went through, catching onto her unexpected peanut gallery.
“Do you wantme to?”
I let the silence build between us, trusting that we’re strong enough to survive it.
“As long as you don’t get in trouble, yeah. I do. But not at the expense of your new family.”
“You’ll always be my family, Mattie.”
She smacks my arm. “Like I’d let you give me up.”
I huff out something that would be a laugh if things weren’t so fucked up.
She sobers. “But, yeah. Make him pay. He’s earned it.”
“Doubly.”
“How did Clara move on after…that?”
God. I’m not the person to answer that question. “Time, good experiences, and therapy. She’s still not over it. She probably never will be. But it’s not as…big anymore.”
Mattie nods. “Good. I can do that. I will.”
“You will, Sparkles. You’re strong, smart, and a born fighter. No shit-stain of an asshole will keep you down.”
She laughs. “Damn straight.” She pushes off the couch, laughter from the kitchen echoing hers. “By the way, Mom let me go back home and grab some stuff while she knew Father was at the doctor’s. I think this is yours.”
