The storm outside rages on.The wind howls through the trees, and rain slams against the windows in relentless waves.The thunder sounds like the world itself is grieving with us.
Deep.
Furious.
Broken.
I can’t tell whose cries belong to whom anymore.We’ve become one tangled knot of grief—four sisters, clinging to each other, holding on with everything we’ve got.The scent of Mom’s perfume still lingers in the cushions, faint and ghostly, like she’s just stepped out of the room and will be back any second.
But she won’t.Neither will Dad.
The truth presses down harder with every breath.
They’re gone.
Courtlynn’s fists tighten in my shirt, and I hold her closer.Baylor’s whisper carries across the room.A cracked, desperate sound.“What are we supposed to do now?”
No one answers.Because there is no answer.There’s only the storm, the tears, and the unbearable silence left behind by the two people who taught us how to love and how to be a family.
We’re fractured to our core, and I don’t know how we’ll ever be us again.
One
Ellison
Present Day
Age 32
I swear, if I have to look at this damn spreadsheet one more minute, I’m going to lose my ever-loving mind.I huff out a breath, sitting back in my rickety old office chair and closing my eyes.It’s only Wednesday, and I’m ready for this week to be over.
I need caffeine.Standing, I stretch my arms in the air, twisting from side to side, loosening up my back.I keep saying I’m going to replace the damn chair, but I never do.It was my father’s.
I remember him sitting in this very spot, behind this desk, in that chair, and no matter how uncomfortable it is, I can’t seem to let it go.Maybe I’ll just move it to the corner or something, because I’m not sure my back can take much more.
Opening my office door, I step out into the hallway.It’s a little after three, so most of the guests are either in town or exploring the property, taking advantage of this unseasonably warm day for early March.
“Hi, Alice,” I say, greeting one of the kitchen staff.“How are things today?”I reach into the basket on the counter and grab an apple, biting into it.It’s not nearly as good as ours.I can’t wait until August when our orchard is ready to harvest.The guests love it, and so do I.I have fond memories of apple-picking with my parents and sisters growing up.
“All good.”Alice smiles.“Just finished up some apple pies for dessert tonight.”
“They smell so good.I came in search of caffeine,” I tell her.
“Just made some fresh sweet tea.It’s Miss Ruby’s recipe, as you know.”She laughs.
“Oh, trust me, I know.Grandma Ruby would never let us live it down if we served anything but her exact ratio of sugar and tea.”I grin.Taking another bite of my apple, I place it on a napkin on the counter and pour myself a big glass of sweet tea.Grandma Ruby’s is the best.Not too sweet, but just enough to kill that craving.
“Leighton was in here doing the same not fifteen minutes ago,” Alice tells me.
“Is she still here?”I ask, grabbing my apple and napkin from the table.
“I think she’s sitting out in the dining room with that computer she’s always attached to.”Alice smiles kindly and turns her attention back to her work.
I chuckle.She’s not wrong.Leighton does website design and digital marketing.She’s a genius at it and is always working.“Thanks, Alice.”I wave my apple, because I don’t have a free hand, and go in search of my sister.
Sure enough, I find Leighton sitting at a small corner table in the dining room with her laptop in front of her and a half-empty glass of sweet tea.Pulling out the chair across from her, I sigh and take another bite of my apple.
“That bad?”she asks, her lips tilting into a smile.
