I clasp my hands under my chin. “Please. Please please. I need to see him. To know this was all worth it.”
Her jaw juts in a mulish expression.
“Please? I’ll do what you like. I’ll go quietly to wherever you need me to go.” I beg her with my eyes. If I can’t have Kalos, at least I can have this small thing. “I just want to make sure he’s all right.”
“Ugh. I should have handed you off to Atropos and been done with it. Fine.” She puts her cigarette between her flattened lips and puts her hand out. “Come on.”
I touch her hand.
The moment we make contact, the world around me changes. Everything swirls, a thousand pale filaments appearing and disappearing, as if I’m passing through an enormous web. Sunlight pours in, and the webbing clears away to reveal…
A park.
It’s a pretty day, the grass green and fat clouds dotting the blue sky. The trees gently sway in a breeze I can’t feel and nearby, someone is playing fetch with their dog. At the edge ofa path, a man in a baseball cap is bent over, cleaning a tiny bronze plaque on a park bench. He straightens, and my heart skips.
That’s my brother.
“David?” I step forward, releasing Lachesis’s hand.
“He can’t hear you,” she tells me. “This is for your benefit only. You don’t exist on the mortal plane any longer.”
I glance back at her and take another step toward my brother as he sits down on the bench and sets a single gerbera daisy on the empty seat next to him. My favorite.
“Hi again, Elsie,” my brother says, rubbing his thumb on the plaque. “Sorry I haven’t been out here much. It’s been busy.”
Stepping forward, I wave a hand in front of his face. He doesn’t notice but just keeps rubbing his thumb on the tiny bronze plaque on the bench. I lean in to read it.
Elsie Anderson. Last seen 2025. Missing but never forgotten. Always loved.
A memory bench. Didn’t we joke that if David passed, I’d get him a bench in a park so I could feed the pigeons in his honor? I’m surprised he remembered. Maybe he didn’t get me a gravestone because I went missing and settled for this instead. It feels more meaningful, and I ache with the thoughtfulness of it.
“I hope wherever you are, that you’re happy,” my brother says. “I hope you’re safe. I hope I get an answer someday as to what happened and why you disappeared.”
“He won’t,” Lachesis whispers unhelpfully.
I shoot her a dirty look, moving closer and studying David’s face. He takes the cap off and closes his eyes, tilting his face towards the sun and he looks good. His skin has color, and he’s put on weight. His hair is thinning on top, but he’s got hairandeyebrows, which tells me he’s not on chemo. It takes me amoment to realize he’s wearing dark blue scrubs, and there’s a badge at his hip. A nurse? A doctor? Something medical, though, and my heart surges with joy for him. I glance back at Lachesis. “How long has it been since I went missing? For him?”
“Five years.”
“Fiveyears?!”
“Time moves differently in the mortal realm.” She shrugs. “Have you seen enough?”
“No,” I say quickly and sit down on the bench across from my brother. Leaning in, I study his face, memorizing small details. The stress line that lived between his brows is gone, his cheeks no longer hollow. He looks so good, I think fondly, watching as he folds his baseball cap in one hand.
Lachesis makes a frustrated sound and a moment later, I hear the flick of her lighter as she decides to have another cigarette.
I absorb these moments with my brother as he talks to the “bench,” updating it with everything going on in his life. He’s been in remission for four years now—no evidence of disease. An experimental clinical trial worked wonders for him, and he’s never felt better. He’s taken up running. He won a stupid amount of money on a lottery ticket that he bought on a whim, and used it to pay off his medical debts. He’s not vegan, but his wife is. He cheats and eats hamburgers when she’s out of the house, and they both chuckle about it when he gets caught. The moment he mentions his wife, his demeanor changes. He touches the ring on his finger, a soft smile on his face.
I see that ring and I’m both overwhelmed with joy for him…and envious.
So damn envious.
“I can’t help but feel that we traded off, somehow, Els,” my brother whispers to the bench. “That you gave your life formine in some way. That one of us had to die so the other could live. It’s crazy, I know, but that’s what it feels like. And…I hate that I’m not sorry. I’m glad that I’m the one that gets to live. And I know that’s wrong.”
“It’s not wrong,” I tell him, even though he can’t hear me. “It was the deal I made.”
“But I’ve got such an amazing life now. You’d be amazed. My wife?—”
