Page 34 of Embrace

She hums in acknowledgment, staring out the window for a long moment before I pull into the driveway. I spin the thin black band on my thumb, the rough edges of the engraving pressing against my skin. It’s my dad’s old ring.

“You don’t have to go in,” Scarlett suddenly says.

Her brown eyes watch me carefully, flicking to my restless hands and then back up. “We should though,” I say. “I haven’t seen my mom in ages.”

“I can stay in the car if this is a lot. I know family can be…complicated.”

“You’re not staying out here. It’s freezing, and that’s not what you came with me for.” I open my car door. “But just give me a second.”

She nods once and I shut my door, jogging up the steps to the front door of the tiny brick house. It’s a duplex, so Ki rents one side while the owner lives on the other. On the doorstep, her mail lies scattered on the old welcome mat that no longer says the full word. It’s faded on both sides, and all I can really make out is the “elco.” The mail has red stamps on it, notice after notice, too many to be recent.

A knot forms in my stomach when I ring the doorbell, knocking alongside it for good measure. “Kiyomi?” I call. “It’s Kian.”

No answer.

I pull out my phone, dialing her number for the third time since this morning.

Stepping away from the porch, I try to look through the window beside the door, but the white curtains blur my view. I walk around to check if the lights are on in the bedrooms, but they’re pitch black. I don’t let myself find Scarlett’s gaze because I’m sure she’s worried, watching me frantically run to the side of the house.

I try Ki’s cell again. Then, as a last resort, my mom’s number. Nothing.

But just as I’m about to pound on her neighbor’s side of thehouse, my phone rings. The breath that leaves me eases some of the weight in my chest.

“Ki? Are you okay?”

“Kian,” she says with a sigh, like this call is too much for her, and she’d rather not be making it right now. I feel that sigh like she’s breathed it into me.

“Where are you? You’re not home.”

“I’m not, Mom’s been—wait, how do you know I’m not home?”

“Because I’m here. Outside your house. I told you I was coming, Ki.”

There’s shuffling on the other end and the click of a heavy door before she starts, “Kian, I told you it’s not a good time. Why would you do that? You should focus on school.”

“I couldn’t. You never called, and I was worried about you.”

“I know. I’m so sorry, pip. But I wish you would have waited before you made the trip. We’re not going to be home for a while.”

“Why not?” I nearly whisper the question, afraid she might brush me off again.

“It’s Mom. She’s been getting worse lately. We’ve had a few outbursts when she forgets things and can’t really communicate.” The echo of her voice tells me she’s standing in a stairwell. “I was at work, and I forgot that the nurse wasn’t going to come by. Mom didn’t take that well.”

“What do you mean?” I push again.

“She left the house, without a jacket, without her phone. I couldn’t find her and then Joban—” She stops abruptly, breaking at the mention of his name.

But I can fill in the rest. Joban comes to see Ki every day. I only know that because he texts me to check in a few times a year. It’s been four years, and not once has he let Ki go, and I’m sure that’s how he ran into my mom.

“Is she gonna be okay?”

“Yeah. Of course. She’s always okay.” The flimsy words barelyhold past her choked sob. From the dead silence, I know she’s muted herself on the phone. To protect me. Again.

“What’s happening to her, Kiyomi? Tell me how I can help—because I can. You just gotta let me.”

“Kian,” her voice is heavier. “This isn’t—you really don’t have to worry about this.”

I barely contain the irritation clawing through me. “But I am! You saying that isn’t going to stop me from worrying. She’s my mom too.”