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Suicide.
He killed her.
Poor kid.
Tragedy.
I bend over from my perch in the driveway, reaching for one of the ruddy stones that has fallen astray near the mailbox. Holding it in my hand, I stare at it, grazing my thumb over its smooth edges.
I think Dad loved this rock more than he loved Mom.
I think he loved it more than he loved me.
I clutch it in a tight fist, looking up at the midnight sky that twinkles with stars and unclaimed wishes. I realize then that maybe this was my fault. Maybe I killed my parents. Maybe I traded them in for a silly wish.
Only…I don’t have a baby sister.
I don’t have anybody.
My bottom lip quivers, and the tears fall hard.
I squeeze the rock.
Then I set it back in place.
2
FIRST IMPRESSION
BRANT, AGE 6
Aunt Kelly sweeps her fingers through my hair, her rings cold and clunky against my head. She looks like Mom a little when she smiles, and her eyes are the same dark brown, but she doesn’t smell as sweet. She smells like her cat. The one that bit me.
“This will be good for you, Brant. I know you’re scared right now, but you’ll see. This is right… This makes sense.” She glances over her shoulder, and when she twists back to me, her eyes are shimmering. “This is what Caroline wanted.”
I look around her, knowing exactly what made her eyes fill with tears.
The house. My house.
We’re standing on Theo’s front stoop, just two properties away from my yard. The grass is overgrown, littered with dead dandelions. Dad wouldn’t like that.
I’m silent as Aunt Kelly makes a gasping sound, covering her mouth with her hand. It trembles a bit. Her whole body does.
My head dips down, chin to chest, and I stare at the little cracks in the porch step. I’m not sure what I’m supposed to say. I’m not sure what I want to say.
“Oh, sweetie, come here.”
I’m pulled into Aunt Kelly’s arms as she hugs me tight, my nose pressed into her belly. She smells different when I’m this close, and I can almost pretend she’s Mom. Maybe they used the same laundry soap.
“I’ll come visit you, okay? I promise,” she whispers, ruffling my hair again. “I know how confusing this must be for you, but the Baileys will raise you right. You’ll have siblings to play with. You’ll have a good family to grow up with—more than I could ever give you.” Her tummy heaves against my face, like she’s trying to catch her breath. “This is what your mother wished for, so you just have to trust that. Do you understand, Brant?”
I swallow, then nod. I don’t really understand, but I think it’s the answer she expects of me. It works, because when she finally pulls away, there’s a smile breaking through her tears. It reminds me of when the clouds dance around in the sky, playing hide-and-seek with the sun, and the sun wins. Triumphant.
“Good,” she tells me, bobbing her head up and down and clasping my face between both palms. Her rings burrow into my cheekbones. “That’s good.”
Aunt Kelly rings the doorbell. It chimes throughout the whole house, spilling out through the screen door. It’s followed by hurried footsteps down the hall. Familiar footsteps.
Theo greets me in the entryway, halting in place when he sees me standing on his stoop with bags and suitcases waiting by my feet. He hesitates. I’ve rung his doorbell so many times, and he never hesitates when he sees me.
