“Did your parents ever forgive you?” Haven asks, her cheeks colored from laughing so hard at the story I just told.
“For trying to fill up their bathroom with water so we could swim in it like a pool? Eventually, but my dad still grumbles about it from time to time.”
“Rightly so,” she says with another laugh.
“Can I tell you something?” she asks, suddenly looking shy.
I lean forward, curious. “Of course.”
She chews on her bottom lip again, and I force my attention off her mouth, not dwelling on why it keeps drawing my focus.
I recognize the habit for what it is now: one of her nervous tells. She’d make a terrible poker player. Her emotions play too clearly across her face.
“I’m not sure how I feel about having a sister,” she confesses in a rush. Guilt flashes across her face. “That’s horrible. I’m a horrible person. Please forget I said that.”
She covers her face with her hands, hiding from me.
I take a moment to find the right words. When I do, I gently peel Haven’s hands away so I can look her in the eye.
Her gaze is stricken, and something in my chest squeezes.
“You spent your whole life believing your sister was dead, and then overnight, poof, she’s not. You’re allowed to feel conflicted about that. It doesn’t make you a horrible person.”
“I’m happy about it . . . mostly,” she admits. “I’ll never forget the hope on my parents’ faces when you told them Locklyn was alive. I think a small part of them died when they thought she did. When I was little, I used to pretend she was there. My own imaginary friend. But . . .” She takes a deep breath. “I think part of it is that I’m nervous to meet her. The way you talk about her, she sounds fearless, brave. Larger than life. She’s done so much already, and what have I done besides run and hide?”
Her gaze drifts to the floor in shame.
“Hey,” I say softly, tilting her chin until our eyes meet again. I don’t want her to hide from me. “You know what people forget about bravery? It doesn’t mean you’re not scared. It means you keep going anyway, and that’s something I’ve seen you do these last couple of days.”
She gives me a small smile, but it doesn’t reach her eyes.
“You and Locklyn are twins, but you don’t have to be her, Haven. You’re your own person. You’re already everything you need to be.”
Her smile turns shy, but her face brightens a notch. “Thanks, Becks. That makes me feel better.”
I start to nod when my eyes catch on the clock on the wall behind Haven.
“Wow,” I say, realizing that hours have passed.
She glances over her shoulder to see what’s caught my attention. “It’s been four hours? I would have said one, tops.”
I rub the back of my neck, not knowing where the time went. “Yeah,” I agree. “It’s pretty late.”
Haven stands and collects our dishes, taking them to the sink to wash.
“You don’t have to do that.”
She throws a quick smile over her shoulder as she scrubs the pan I cooked the vegetables in. “You cooked. I clean. It’s only fair.”
Even so, I grab a dish towel and start drying the dishes after she washes them.
“I said I’d do that.”
“And I told you, you didn’t need to.”
She rolls her eyes but doesn’t protest as I help clean up.
When we’re done, she covers a yawn.
