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“And me.”
Julia heard a shadow of hurt in her sister’s voice. “And you.” At that, Julia felt something in her chest relax.
“So where did you go tonight?”
Julia felt heat flare in her face. She glanced down at the dogs. “Max’s house.”
Ellie straightened. “Really? Max never takes women to his house.”
“I think he felt sorry for me.”
Ellie was staring at her now and frowning. “Did you—”
“No,” Julia said quickly. She didn’t even want to hear the words out loud. “Of course not.”
“You watch out for him,” Ellie said at last. “I’m not kidding, Jules. And I’m not jealous. Just be careful.”
Julia was touched by the concern. “I will be.” She stood up. “I’m beat. I’m going to crash. Thanks for waiting up for me.”
“Thanks for throwing yourself on the fire for us.”
Julia headed for the stairs. She was just reaching for the banister when Ellie called out her name. Julia paused and turned around. “Yeah?”
“Everything will be okay, you know. Sooner or later it’ll die down and they’ll remember how good you are at what you do.”
Julia released her breath. “That’s what Mom would have said to me.”
Ellie smiled.
Julia tried to hang on to those words, to let them be her armor. It was what she’d done as a child. Whenever she’d been wounded by some slight at school—or by her father’s inattention—she’d gone to her mother in tears. Everything will be okay, her mom would say, wiping the moisture from her cheeks and enfolding her in a hug that smelled of Suave shampoo and cigarettes.
She climbed the stairs to her room and went directly to the twin bed by the window.
Julia pulled the blankets up and covered the child, then bent down slowly and kissed her sweet, soft cheek.
She meant to rise, but knelt by the bed instead. Without realizing what she was going to do, she bowed her head and closed her eyes.
Give me strength.
She kissed Alice’s cheek again, then climbed into her own narrow, lonely bed and fell asleep.
SOMETHING IS WRONG.
Girl senses it the second she opens her eyes. She stands still, sniffing the air. Many things, she has learned, can be sensed if one is quiet. The coming of snow smells like apples and makes her littlest finger swell up; a hunting bear makes a sound like snoring; danger can be heard in plenty of time if one is still and quiet. This was a lesson Her could never learn. In the lazy other days that she sometimes visits in her sleep, she remembers how Her used to try talking to Girl: always the noise, and the trouble that came afterward.
Now, in her safe place, hidden by the small trees, she stares through the leaves at the Sun-Haired Her, who is so silent.
Has Girl done something wrong?
Across the room, Sun Hair looks up. She looks sad, like maybe her eyes are going to start leaking again. And tired. That was how Her looked before she got dead.
“Comeherealis.” Sun Hair pats the bed.
Girl knows that movement, the touching of the bed. It means that Sun Hair will open the magic pictures and talk and talk.
Girl loves that. The sound of Her voice, the way she lets Girl be so close, the safety of curling up beside her.
“Comeherealis.”
