Page 25 of Anchored to the Storm

I jolted when he wasn’t in his room and was about to run down the stairs to search for him when I noticed Johnny’s door cracked open. Ah, fuck. Somehow, I just knew where Finn had gone. He had claimed to kiss Johnny. Kisses commonly have a romantic meaning behind them. Maybe Finn was struggling more than we knew with Johnny leaving.

Doing my best not to let the attic stairs creak, I made my way up to find Finn sleeping in Johnny’s bed. I grabbed my chest. Finn had lost a roommate before. Now he lost Johnny. I had to try harder to fill voids. Maybe I could start by moving his stuff to where he wants to be. At least that would get him away from staring at an empty bed. Like Sebastian. Like⁠—

In a slight rush, I went straight to Sarah. Her door was open, and what I saw had me coming to a stop. Sarah was in bed, on her side, staring at Blue’s empty bed. Like Seb, her arm hung half off the mattress, but her hand was holding her cell phone.

It sucked how Dale and Harmony had to leave extra beds in the rooms because of their foster status. If a child in need arrived, in the middle of the night like Johnny, late at night like Blue, they had to be ready.

I didn’t think Sarah had noticed me until she quietly said, “How can someone so small leave such a big hole?”

In her heart. I understood. My little sister.

I leaned against her doorway, crossing my arms because I still hadn’t recovered from that life-shattering loss. “I don’t know. It’s like dynamite. How it comes in small packages.”

Lifting her head from her pillow, Sarah looked at me with a bewildered expression. “Yes… Her light was beautifully explosive.”

“And, touching.” I tapped my chest. “Like my… sister. Could reach the deepest parts of me.”

I suddenly stood up straight, beyond shocked that I’d spoken of her out loud.

Sarah’s mouth gaped before she caught herself. She didn’t mention it, though. Instead, she sat up in bed and said, “Blue felt like a little sister to me.” When I didn’t say anything, she added, “Blue loved being here. She said it felt like having sleepovers. Ones she never got to have.” I watched as she held her cellphone to her chest. “Before you came here, did you ever get to have a sleepover?”

I think there was such an unusual innocence in Sarah’s voice that I couldn’t help but reply with the truth. “No,” I said as I sat at the foot of her bed. “It was too dangerous in my home—” I startled. Why am I saying so much? Why am I talking about him?

“Was it your dad?”

If that’s what you could call the mean sonofabitch. “Yeah.” Just thinking of him had me suddenly back in the burning house. The heat found me everywhere I turned while frantically trying to find my little sister. As if the flames in my past had somehow followed me into real life, I smacked at the embers burning my clothes and skin⁠—

Sarah’s soft tone and touch on my arm helped anchor me back to reality. “Are you okay?”

She was now on her knees, right in front of me. “Yeah. Sorry.” But for now, the memory made the scars on my body itch. My chest tightened, and I nervously rubbed my hands over my bare arms, feeling the damaged skin. Again, I jolted. I let Sarah touch my scars.

I stared at her. She hadn’t acted disgusted by my disfigurement. Disgusted by…

As she now reached up to touch my face, I didn’t dare move. I was entranced to be touched so intimately. This was the part of me that had been purposely hidden. Especially in public. How could anyone want to touch this part of me?

My scars weren’t only skin deep… and this young woman knew it. Her cool touch on my scarred face; she whispered, “You will never convince me her death is your fault.”

My mouth fell open as enormous guilt rustled inside me.

It is cruel how much the abused willingly take the blame. I hadn’t set fire to the house, yet my sister’s death was mine to own.

When Sarah imitated a strategic breath for me to replicate, I realized I had stopped breathing.

“Thank you,” she softly said as I drew air into my lungs. “But I mean it. Johnny once said that I’m nearly as strong-minded and tenacious as his Noma, so believe me when I promise you you’re wrong on this one. Plus, if you’re guilty of your sister’s passing, then I am going straight to Hell when leaving this earth for good.”

I was about to ask her how she could speak of herself that way, but didn’t because she held up her cell. “I wish I could find all those we’ve lost. Tell them all how sorry I am. Maybe that’s why I keep calling Johnny.” She shrugged, and her voice failed her. “Even though the number is disconnected.”

I leaned forward. God, I wanted to touch her, but I restrained myself. “I don’t blame you for trying.”

She cried, “Why is his phone number gone?”

“I believe you-know-who is trying to protect him.”

She folded into her lap, sobbing. “Ethan, what if he wants to call home?” She hit the bed with a little fist. “I know it’s crazy, but I can feel him wanting to call home.”

I couldn’t hold back anymore. It was pure torture not to be as close to her as possible. So, I scooted, then gently, to not crush her, leaned over her. “Air. Take it in, Sarah.”

I didn’t dare confirm she might be feeling him like the linked dreams we’d been having. How far did the connection go? And if she was truly feeling his need to call home, was he in trouble? Hurting?