Page 162 of Sinister

“Oh, please, have some backbone, you scum,” the green-eyed girl scoffs before turning to me. “Hello, beautiful, you must be Petra! I’m Marie, Sin’s sister, and Lisa and Tom Arnoult’s favorite child.”

“Hey!” says Sin at the same time as Lisa says, “M!”

But I’m laughing away at the girl’s infectious energy. “It’s so nice to meet you, Marie. Sin tells me you’re quite the prankster.”

“He has given glowing reports of my daring escapades, I hope?” Marie replies in a curt voice, turning to Sin for confirmation.

“I told her about the Sparklepants incident, M,” Sin mutters under his breath, but his sister turns to me with a glowing smile.

“And I have done worse,” she says happily. “Much worse, bwaahahaha!” Marie flicks back her braid, thick and shiny blond, and cackles like a stone-cold hag.

“Why you little—” Sin swears and starts chasing her around the room. “I’ll break your legs, you monkey!” he howls as Marie dashes behind the couch and the filigreed coffee table.

“You’ll never catch me, you slowpoke!” she yells back, and I’m beyond amused at this cozy picture of siblinghood.

I like her, says my inner voice, and I’m not surprised.

“Oh, stop it, you two,” Lisa cries out, while Tom has already slipped back into the kitchen. “Don’t mind them, dear,” she says to me casually. “Always running around like wild animals. Anyways, dinner’s almost ready.” She starts walking, signaling for us to follow her. “We’re having lasagna, one of Sin’s favorites.”

After we sit down around the table, the convivial teasing and good-natured jokes continue.

Plates are passed, and laughter flows easily. With a pang of sorrow, I remember the quiet dinners at my house, and I can’t help but feel an intense longing for this kind of closeness.

“So, Petra,” Lisa begins, her eyes kind yet curious, “tell us a bit about yourself. How do you and Sin know each other?”

“Well, we go to the same school,” I blurt out in panic, and Marie howls with joy.

“You’re no match for her, dumb-dumb,” she tells Sin, and he makes a face at her.

“No, I mean,” I hurry to clarify, “I mean we have Art History together, and we’re working on a project . . .”

“And she’s amazing at it,” Sin cuts in smoothly. “Petra’s got such a talent for art. You should hear her talk about it.” He nods at me bracingly, and I smile back.

“That’s wonderful to hear, Petra,” compliments Tom. “You know our town has a rich history of folk art. Have you guys been reading about it?”

I wasn’t expecting the questions to veer toward our time learning the town’s colorful history in the crypt, so I am lost for words at this moment.

“Ugh, Dad, let her eat!” Sin chimes in. “He’s always harping on about history and such, Petra. Ignore him.”

Tom laughs in a good-humored manner, and the conversation keeps flowing easily. The warmth and camaraderie in the Arnoult household are so, so different from what I’m used to that I feel nostalgic for something I’ve never even had.

“Ignore them both, Petra,” says Lisa. “We’re just so glad you could join us tonight. Sin speaks very highly of you.”

I blush at the unexpected praise from her. “Thank you, Mrs. Arnoult. It means a lot to hear that.”

“Please, call me Lisa,” she replies with a warm smile. “Did Sin ever tell you he’s our miracle child?”

“How do you mean?”

“No, not this story again,” Marie groans with a theatrical sigh while Lisa absent-mindedly serves her some more pasta.

“You see, Tom and I couldn’t have children for the longest time,” she begins. “We tried everything, but nothing worked. We even prayed and donated to the Church—all for a miracle. And then, after so much heartbreak, we finally had our Sin.” Here, she looks at her son. “And he’s been our miracle ever since.” Her eyes glisten with unshed tears and the tenderest of affections.

Sin looks down, slightly embarrassed but clearly touched by his mother’s words. “Mom . . .”

I glance at Sin, a warmth spreading in my chest. “That’s beautiful, Lisa. You must have been so happy.”

“Oh, we were,” she continues, her voice filled with emotion. “And we still are. Sin’s brought so much joy into our lives. And then there’s Marie.” She lovingly strokes her daughter’s head. “She’s a blessing too, even though her circumstances were different.”