Page 23 of Anchored to the Storm

Once everyone went quiet, she kept pointing to all of us, over and over.

I quietly asked her, “We are involved?”

Becoming upset, she nodded, closing her eyes.

Again, I racked my brain. Nightmares… Secrets… Name—I suddenly remembered the night we heard the new kid screaming. After his Noma’s funeral. We ran up to his room in the attic. He was calling out for—“Styx.”

Sarah rushed to her knees, yanked a blue flower from the ground and laid it… vertically.

Finn recoiled.

Ethan smacked his forehead.

Gage, lost in thought, told Sarah, “You stayed with him after we all promised to never say that name again. Then left the attic.”

Now it all made sense. “He told you who he is.”

She plucked a blue flower and laid it horizontally.

Ethan sighed. “He told you what he did.”

She burst into tears.

Ethan snatched her up and put her in his lap. The way he wrapped his arms around her spoke volumes of feelings, far beyond sisterly. “Shh… I got you.”

Getting to his knees, Finn rested one hand on Ethan’s back and one on Sarah’s. He whispered in Ethan’s ear, then plucked a yellow flower and a blue one.

Staring at the choices being held in front of Sarah, Ethan reluctantly asked her, “Is that who has Johnny now?”

No one made a peep as she took the blue flower and held it to her chest.

Finn shook as he reached out for one more blue flower. “I don’t want to push, but,” he took a deep breath, “please tell me one more thing.” He held both flowers out for her to pick from. “The-name-we’re-not-to-say, is this man good for Johnny?” His voice cracked. “I have to know.”

We all did. For our sanity.

Head on Ethan’s shoulder, she slowly reached out for the blue flower and laid it… vertically.

Bullseye.

West Three

Ethan

He is life. . . for us. . .

Holding Sarah close to me, my eyes slid shut in relief. Styx is good for Johnny. I could breathe again. That is, until I jolted hearing Harmony and Dale take a seat in the gazebo.

They didn’t mean to interrupt us. I think they were terribly scared for these fosters that were struggling so hard. We never even admitted to being sore, having headaches, or aches from the accident. Caleb lost his life. What the fuck did we have to bitch about as far as injuries? Not that the Weathers could show up to a doctor or emergency room with five foster children who all sustained head injuries without authorities being involved. Nope, we would be separated and off to new homes.

No can do.

However, the only pain we couldn’t hide was that in our hearts. And they were the wounds worrying the Weathers.

Once we all got to our feet and a quietly made our way to the gazebo, Harmony gently asked, “Could we have a quick family meeting now?”

After we all nodded wearily, we were led through the garage to the front driveway.

The errand Dale and Harmony had run was to pick up the next vehicle us Misfits were to share. Bertha had been totaled after Caleb’s accident. Not that any of us ever would have been able to ride in her again. There was no way. Caleb died after being thrown from her.