Page 96 of You Fall First

Wow. I can’t believe I just admitted this out loud. To Jo.

To myself.

“Anyway, that’s it. They’re my whole life. All I got left.”

I wait for the familiar gut twist that usually comes with this story. Instead, I feel a wash of relief.

“I’m sorry,” Jo says simply.

I nod, grateful for her listening.

“Loss like that can change a family.” She tucks her legs up under her body and meets my gaze. “Splits you right down the middle, actually.” Her words sound watery at the edges, and I can’t tell if that’s stuff she knows from her studies, or from personal experience. Or both.

“You Michaels folk seem pretty happy and whole.”

“Yes, of course. Just ask our sign in the kitchen.” Her mouth curves up a half inch. “Happiness is a Choice. That’s the family motto, and we are happy, mostly.” She folds her hands, fingers entwined in her lap. “But we’ve had sadness, too. And we’re definitely not whole.”

The quiet stretches between us.

Then she says, “I’m guessing Dex never told you.”

“No, I guess not.”

Concern brackets my lungs, and I’m desperate to hear more, but I won’t push Jo to share if she’s not ready. Still, I’m willing to listen if she wants to talk. And I want her to trust me. So I simply keep my gaze on hers, waiting in the silence.

“We have another sister,” she says, finally, her volume barely audible. “We lost a sister. When I was six. Clara was three. She’s the real Little Michaels of the family.”

My insides lurch. “Jo.”

No other words come.

“My brother doesn’t talk about it much outside the family,” she says. “So I’m not surprised you didn’t know. I don’t either, really.”

I nod, still wordless. The best I can do is let her continue if she wants to.

She wants to.

“So, when she was three, Clara got sick. Then she got sicker, and then she was … gone.” Jo’s voice breaks. “It all happened so fast. No one was prepared.”

“I’m so sorry,” I manage. “I had no idea.”

She lifts the hem of her pajama top to reveal a sliver of pale skin. Along her waist is a single sentence inked in cursive and a crescent moon. “It says ‘right up to the moon and back.’ From Clara’s favorite book.”

“That’s beautiful.” My throat feels clogged with cotton. Losing my parents was hard enough, but saying goodbye to Paige or Dutton is a dark place I won’t let my brain visit.

“We all have one. Dex went first when he turned eighteen. Then Kendal. Then Landry. I was last, of course.” Jo’s words are so soft, they’re barely a shiver now. “The idea was to keep her with us forever, but I actually don’t remember much on my own. I’ve just heard the stories. For better or worse.”

“Maybe both?” I offer gently.

“My therapist thinks I blocked things out. Not on purpose. Subconsciously. Which I probably did. I mean, who wants to relive memories like that if you have the option to forget?”

I nod, slowly. “Makes sense.”

“The thing is, everybody else figured out a way to cope,” she says. “My mom and dad leaned on each other. Kendal and Landry got super tight. Dex became the whole family’s protector. Then there was me. Jojo. The youngest, but I wasn’t supposed to be. And I can’t help feeling like I’ll always be missing … my person.” She pauses for a breath, gives her head a small shake, like she’s snapping out of a moment. “Wow. That was a lot. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. Please.”

“But—”