“What are you talking about?” Ez grabbed my hand. “You didn’t do anything.”
“Yeah, I did.” I took the longest breath my aching sides would allow me to have. “You got the courage to stand up to Daddy and tell him how you really felt about being overlooked growing up. That moment was aboutyou. And I took it away, because I got hurt, and now I’m in the hospital, stealing your spotlight when you really need our parents’ attention.”
“I’m not mad at you for any of that,” he insisted. “I said what I needed to, and Dad gets it now.”
“No. What you said, about being sick too… you are, Ez. And you deserve attention and love for it.”
“And I’ll get it. Dad and I spent a lot of time talking when he was here. Like,reallytalking, deep conversations. I feel like I can adjust to my illness now, instead of continuing to run from it. In a way, you being hurt has actually given us time to connect.”
“Well, at least that’s a positive.” I shifted against the bed and groaned. “Seems like I’m always the one who needs help, aren’t I?”
“We all need help, at different times,” Ez said. “I used to think some of us needed more help than others, but I recently realized I’m just really good at shouldering other people’s problems, because asking for help makes me feel—”
“Like a burden?”
“No. Like… if I ask people to take care of me, they won’t want me anymore.”
Ez grasped my hand tighter. “It’s hard to describe this, Ava, but I take care of other people. Other people don’treallytake care of me. You’re the oldest daughter, so you can understand what I’m getting at, but I’m the oldest son, so I felt like it was my responsibility to be a helper to everyone else, and asking for that help in return was selfish, because I was the selfless one who was supposed to keep giving and not ask for any of that in return. And I didn’t understand why I did that until I talked to Dad. He told me that he has this problem, too. We’re both caretakers at heart. We show people we love them by taking care of them, but then we forget that other people can actually enjoy taking care of us as well. I don’t have to be strong all the time. So don’t feel like you have to, either, because I know that you’re in pain.”
Tears welled in my eyes as I said, “It hurts so fucking bad, Ez.”
I could be honest with him, because he was my brother. Telling Charlie wasn’t the same— he’d get upset and blame himself.
Telling Ez was easy, because he had a chronic illness, and he dealt with pain every day. Though he wasn’t in my position, he could identify with struggling to feel relief.
“I know it does, but it’s not forever, because all pain ends, or changes somehow,” Ez said gently. “Someday you won’t feel this shitty. Even if the pain is still there, it’ll be different, more manageable. When I got diagnosed, you told me I’d feel better, and I did. So hold on, because this is the worst of it.”
I squeezed his hand. “Tell me what I have to look forward to.”
“First thing. When we get out of here, we need to start a band,” Ez joked.
“Why not? What did you say was a great band name?Ava-Marie and the Fuck Around Gang?” I smirked.
“Hell yeah, it’d be awesome! You on vocals, me on bass, Charlie on the keyboard, and I’m sure we can teach Kallie to play the drums. Opal’s already learning guitar. And shit, Marcus can even wave a tambourine.”
I laughed. “We’d kill each other on the tour bus.”
“But it’d be one sick band, though.”
“It definitely would.” We’d make some amazing songs together.
Then my heart dropped as I considered the reality. Starting a band and touring the country seemed just as implausible as buying that cottage Charlie and I always talked about. Right now, the only thing that seemed like a sure thing in my life were keys, prophecies, and darkness. I couldn’t imagine living a life that wasn’t villainous and criminal. Even if I didn’t want it anymore, that’s just who we were. We couldn’t avoid trouble and sadness… couldn’t avoid an existence of pain. Not even if we wanted to.
And it sucked, because we were in our twenties. We should be out having fun and making mistakes. Not worrying about fixing the problems the generations before us had created… not considering giving up, because that seemed like a better solution than continuing to fight.
I shook myself out of it. I’d never been in a darker place than last semester, and I didn’t want to go back there. I refused to go into that pit again.
Ez noticed I was spiraling, and changed the topic. “Grandpa and Grandmother wanted to see you, but the Warden wouldn’t let them in. Not Auntie Imogen or Uncle Jonah, either. They all came here, but they were denied entry. Told that since the war was getting worse, they couldn’t allow any visitors, for security purposes.”
“I suppose Grandmother Eleanor was perfectly cordial about the denial.” I snickered.
“Oh, ancestors, she nearly blew the place up. The entire perimeter around the Institute was on fire. Her Koigni magic just erupted. It was something to see,” Ez said fondly. “The only reason Grandpa managed to convince her to leave the island was that they’d be detained and sent to the adult penitentiary themselves if she kept throwing fireballs at all the guards. You could hear her screaming all the way inside the walls. Everyone’s talking about the hot grandma who called the Warden a rat bastard.”
“I wish I would’ve been there.” What a legend. If I could become half the woman my grandmother was, I’d be a sight to see.
I winced as I heard the door open again, my body curling in revulsion.Please, not another test.
I relaxed as I saw it was only Marcus. “Hey!” I said brightly. “I didn’t know you were gonna stop by.”
