Maybe.
But if he does, the violence stays there where it belongs. He doesn’t bring it home. Which is more than I can say about Dad, Luke, the blood men in town.
And me.
Wordlessly, I grab his bags and pile them into the other car while he climbs in. I give Tara a quick hug and open the back door, where Jonah’s fast asleep. I kiss him on the cheek and quietly shut his door.
Then I kneel at Heath’s side and squeeze his hand. He squeezes back. We look ahead to the powdery sand and the water, sparkling in the sun while wispy clouds drift by. The horizon stretches endlessly, the sea meeting the sky forever. I crouch there, feeling like the whole world is over.
Or it’s just beginning.
I open my mouth and wonder what the hell I can possibly say.
Heath beats me to it, straightening his back, attempting a smile. “Eel be back.”
I laugh. “Any fin is possible.”
I stand up, biting my lip when Tara starts the engine. I shut Heath’s door and tuck my hands in my pockets, stepping back. But he winds the window down, smiling now. “Tanks for the ride.”
“Best fishes!”
As the car pulls away, I raise my hand in a small, hesitant wave. There’s a lump in my throat, a quiet ache in my stomach. My hand is heavy as I wave goodbye, wishing I could stop time. The space between us widens, and it feels like the world has quietened. I watch my brother roll down the road, getting farther and farther away. I lower my hand, fingers flat against my sides as if the last of our connection has been lost.
But he calls one final time: “Hey!”
I raise my chin, wait.
He smiles from the car window, yells out for the whole world to hear, “I’ll love you for a krill-ion years!”
I laugh, raising my hand again to wave goodbye. This time, it doesn’t feel heavy and final. It just feels right.
The engine fades first, the car growing smaller and smaller, merging with the horizon where the sea meets the sky.
I lean against my car, watching him until he’s a speck in the distance. Time stretches for a moment, and then his car vanishes completely as if swallowed by the brilliant sea.
Chapter 34
The room smells like sweat and cigarettes. I sit with a painfully straight back, cross my legs at the ankles, lay my palms flat on my thighs, and wait.
God, it’s silent in here. No clock. No TV. No windows. Nothing but a bare lightbulb hanging from the ceiling, two metal chairs, and a shitty foldable table bolted to the floor.
It’s far too bright in here. I find myself squinting in the harsh light, listening to the distant bustle outside the closed door. Muted voices, soft laughter, doors banging shut. The longer I’m alone, waiting in the silence, the more I want to surrender to it. The words I long to spit out are beginning to retreat. They’re stomping to the back of my throat, heavy and defiant.
They don’t have to know.
You don’t have to say a word.
You can take Jessie and go anywhere. Anywhere at all.
I exhale shakily, my knee bobbing up and down in the torturous wait. I look desperately over my shoulder to the closed door.Hurry up,I urge silently,I don’t know if I can do this.
I gasp when the door bursts open.
“Sorry ’bout that,” the sergeant says, but he doesn’t look sorry. He looks impatient and a bit irritated. “Coke, yeah?”
I nod. He places the red Coke can on the folding table, slaps down a notebook, and eases into the metal chair opposite me, sighing heavily like he hasn’t sat down all day. He’s tall, thin-lipped, hairline receding to the crown. The only interesting feature is his ears. They’re slightly sharp at the top, pointed even. I can’t stop looking at them.
He uncaps a pen and commands, “What’s your date of birth?”
