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Wavel died only a few minutes after leaving the house, and we had no idea. She had been dead for almost five hours before we found here in that ditch. She had been thrown out the window, hitting a large tree, before the taxi slammed into her. As if the first part of her death wasn’t already enough.
The taxi driver didn’t survive either. He was still inside, and he got trapped, unable to get out of the car. He was crushed to death, just like Wavel.
It didn’t rain on the day Wavel was buried. Surprising, really, because the rain never seemed to stop in our town. Mom said it was a sign from Wavel. That she was the one making the sun shine on her funeral, and to tell us that she was okay.
I wasn’t sure if I wanted to believe her. All I knew was Wavel wasn’t coming back, and I felt guilty, thinking her death had something to do with me and the way I wished she were dead.
I pushed that guilt away, telling myself that it couldn’t have been my fault. If there was a God, I was the last person he or she or it would’ve listened to. I was a nobody with no fate in anything and I had a sick brain. I didn’t deserve to be heard by a higher power.
I stopped thinking about the night Wavel died because it didn’t help my mental state. I needed to let it go, just like Mom and Dad had.
The evening after the funeral, Mom cooked a big meal, and we sat at the table, eating in silence. And after the funeral, Mom was already cleaning out Wavel’s room. Dad got angry at first, not understanding why Mom would get rid of everything Wavel ever owned, but when she told him that she simply didn’t want to have anything to remind her of Wavel in the house, Dad changed his mind and agreed, then he helped her get rid of everything.
All of her clothes, her school stuff, and her furniture was taken to the basement. I didn’t even get to claim some of Wavel’s clothes.
I guessed I would be a big enough of a reminder that they used to have two daughters. At first I thought maybe Mom would hate me for still being alive while her favorite daughter was gone, but she didn’t seem to mind. She smiled at me and talked to me since Wavel’s passing, which I never would’ve expected.
She even kissed my forehead once, and she asked me what I wanted to eat for dinner a couple of times.
When Wavel was still here, the kind of attention mom was giving me now was all I wanted. I just wanted to be seen and included, but I wanted it to be that way with Wavel around.
Months went by, and my parents never said Wavel’s name ever again. It was as if they had forgotten about her. As if all the years they spent loving on her never existed.
During all this, Sly was the one who had the hardest time accepting Wavel’s death. That didn’t come as a surprise. The night we found her lifeless body was the night Sly stopped talking.
He locked himself in his room often, and whenever he came out, he sat around us in silence. I didn’t blame him. He loved her. Not the way we loved her. I needed a moment, but I was finally able to admit that Sly would never love me the way he loved Wavel.
There was one thing that stopped right after her death. I wasn’t jealous. Not anymore. Because there was nothing left to be jealous of.
Chapter 37
CAIA
It's been five months, and I still missed her.
I thought about her a lot, and wondered where we would be if she were still here. She never got to meet Jack. Breaking the news to him wasn’t easy. He didn’t believe Dad at first, but after a long phone call, Jack accepted it and apologized, thinking it was his fault Wavel died.
It was no one’s fault. No one could’ve seen that coming. He felt bad that it wasn’t him taking the flight to Seattle, instead he made Wavel take the trip.
Mom invited him to come spend a few days with us, but Jack never actually came. He wouldn’t come. Why would he? He wouldn’t find Wavel. Only a broken family that acted like nothing ever happened.
Well, I wasn’t broken. I was upset and worried.
Worried about Sly because he still wasn’t speaking to us. He sat with us most dinners, but most of the time he was locked in his bedroom.
He lost some weight, and his hair was growing without direction. It was longer than usual, but he kept shaving his face which told me that he was looking after himself in some way.
It was a Sunday, and Mom and Dad were sitting in the living room, each reading a newspaper in silence. I sat with them for a while, but decided I finally needed to check on Sly. I couldn’t keep living around him, acting like I didn’t care about him. Like I didn’t still love him.
I headed upstairs, passing Wavel’s empty room before stopping in front of Sly’s bedroom door. I stood there for a moment, leaning against the door with my eyes closed. Then, I finally lifted my fist to knock. “Sly?” I called out to him softly. Saying his name almost brought me to tears. I missed him so much. “Sly, will you let me in?”
I waited for him to respond, but when he didn’t, I decided that maybe he wasn’t ready to talk yet. I sighed, sliding my hand along the door, and turning back around to leave.
The lock turned just as I took a step, and I looked back again to see Sly standing in the open door. His eyes looked sad, but the curl at the corners of his lips told me that he was trying to smile.
“Come in,” he said, letting me hear his perfect voice.
It was then that I couldn’t hold back my emotions. A sob bubbled up in my throat, and I held the back of my hand over my mouth, trying not to cry. But it was too late. Tears streamed down my face, and my body started shaking. “I miss you, and I miss her,” I cried, hoping I wasn’t pushing him away by saying that.
