Page 127 of No Greater Oblivion

From the moment Karina and me were old enough to recite the alphabet, practicality had been hammered into us with a cruel and heavy hand. We weren’t allowed to have dreams; we had goals. And as the eldest and only daughters of our parents, we bore the weight and responsibility of all their hopes and sacrifices. Such a burden made unhappy, overachievers of us both.

Watching her dance is an act of mourning. She moves across the stage in a shimmering white outfit with all the grace and agility of the mystical swan she aims to portray and at her pointed feet lies a graveyard all she could’ve done and been. Karina could’ve gone as far as the New York City Ballet or the Paris Opera Ballet but she traded her costumes for textbooks a long time ago. Now she dances for the joy and pleasure of it as part of a local dance company in downtown—the Lafayette Ballet Company. An old and well-respected nonprofit known for catapulting the careers of many of the industry’s most talented professionals.

Karina’s been scouted numerous times over the years by choreographers and talent agents alike but she’s always turned them down. Whether it was out of insecurity, fear, or both, she’ll never say.

We’re at Da Gennaro on Mulberry Street where I check my phone religiously, hoping a message from Karina will come through. An hour has come and gone and no one knows where she is or why it’s taking her so long to get here. No one seems to mind her absence, assuming she went out with friends from her company, but Karina wouldn’t have left her family high and dry like this. Da Gennaro is her favorite restaurant. Coming here after a show is tradition and seeing as how Karina and Brent left more or less around the same time as the rest of us, it can’t have taken them this long to drive fifteen blocks and find parking. It’s cold, snowing, and eleven o’clock; no one is out right now.

When I reach for my phone again, Alejandro notices. “She’s still not here?”

I call but it goes straight to voicemail. “No.”

“Do you think they’re stuck in traffic?”

“The theater is on Lafayette. No way it’s taking this long.” I let out a huff of frustration. “They should be here already.”

“Do you think Brent’s still upset about what happened?”

“I’m still upset about what happened.” My eyes narrow. “What exactly were they arguing about?”

Alejandro looks over and I follow his line of sight. Diego is sitting at the end of our table with my aunt who’s holding one of her baby nieces. I can tell Diego isn’t in high spirits but he does well to hide his discontentment and instead, helps the baby sneak bits of pasta off my aunt’s plate. Lettie, the old soul she is, has been cooped up in a corner with my grandparents for most of the evening where they eat, drink, and judge people together in peace.

“He wouldn’t say,” Alejandro replies. “Though something tells me it has to do with Karina.”

It all happened so quickly. One minute, hundreds of people were vacating the theater and the next, Diego was pushing Brent so hard he knocked over a table of playbills. Alejandro swooped in and ended the conflict before it could go any further. Brent stormed off, taking a frustrated Karina with him and we haven’t heard from them since.

“Maybe it’s best we leave,” he tells me. “We shouldn’t have come to begin with.”

“Don’t say that. Karina and I both invited you guys. I’m family which means you are too.”

The corner of his mouth rises in a barely there smile. He lifts his hand and gently caresses my cheek. “I know. But Brent is Karina’s husband and if he doesn’t want my brother here for whatever reason, we have to respect his wishes.” He leans over and kisses my temple. “Text her and tell her we’re leaving. Maybe then she’ll come. If you’d like, I can pick you up⁠—”

“No,” I say quickly. “I’m going with you guys. Karina won’t mind, and I’m tired anyway.”

He nods and doesn’t say anything else. I’m about to text Karina when a call from Lyss comes through.

I lift my phone to my ear. “Hey, can I call⁠—”

“Dee, I’m at the hospital and Karina’s here.”

I sit upright so quickly I knock over the wine glass in front of me. “Wh⁠—”

“Look, don’t panic, she’s okay. I’ll explain later. We’re at Mount Sinai, how quickly can you get here?”

Still beside me, Alejandro sits up in my seat and touches my arm. “What’s wrong?”

“I’ll tell you when we’re outside. Diego and Lettie can either stay or meet us later but tell them we’re leaving now. Give me the keys, I’m going to start the car.”

He hands over the keys to our rental without protest. I grab my coat and purse and run out of the restaurant.

“What the hell is she doing at Mount Sinai?”

“Brent brought her to the emergency room, apparently she fell and got hurt. My aunt’s on duty tonight and I stopped by to bring her dinner when I saw them. She got taken in for some more x-rays a few minutes ago. Brent’s a wreck.”

“Did he tell you anything?”

“Just that she hurt her foot. I don’t know what else.”

I stop dead in my tracks.