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Her dark eyes turn to me, so much sadness and despair in the dark pools of brown. Her eyes are like the ones on the teddy bear my little sister sleeps with. I don’t like to see her teddy bear eyes so sad.
The sides of her mouth turn down; her bottom lip trembles. “I hope you’re right.”
I take her hand. Her skin feels soft and I squeeze it. “I know I am. I know everything that goes on with the big people. It’s my job to know because one day, I’ll beconsilierof my clan like my tata was.”
She starts crying again, tears tracking down her cheeks. “I don’t know what’s going on. No one tells me anything,” she wails. “Mama cries all the time, and my brother’s scary he’s so mad. He stays out all night. I wait up for him to come home. Last night, he didn’t return until three o’clock in the morning. I saw it on the clock on my nightstand.”
“He’s avenging your father’s death,” I say confidently, puffing out my chest a little.
That’s what goodmafiemen do. They avenge wrongs. That’s what I will do one day.
She shakes her head. “It’s war, and if something bad happens to him, I’ll have no one.”
“You have your mama.”
She shakes her head, staring at my finger playing with the frayed strands of the hole in her stocking. “My mama is weak.”
I know what she means. It’s the men that keep families safe.
Her voice drops down to a whisper. “I’m scared he won’t come back…like my dad. I creep around and try to listen in to their conversations, but—”
Fear spears my heart.
Fear and a jab of pain. I do the same thing, eavesdropping on the grown-ups. But I’m a boy, and I’m the head of my family.
She’s a girl, and she shouldn’t do that.
It’s her brother’s job to protect her. He’s probably too busy to notice she’s slinking around. But I get why she does it. The fear gets so strong, you want to know what’s going on, what’s going to happen. It feels like…control.
I want to protect her, but I’m not in her house so I threaten her instead, “Don’t ever do that. You shouldn’t be sneaking around the house trying to be a grown-up. It’s your brother’s job.”
Her mouth firms in mutiny. “But what if he dies, then what?”
“He won’t,” I insist.
He could die at any time, but I don’t like her scared, and I’ll do anything to take the fear out of her eyes.
She looks at me skeptically.
“I don’t lie.”
She lets out a little sigh of relief, but her lips press rebelliously. Stubborn girl. I didn’t know that about her.
I pause and argue what I think might work to make her stop. “You don’t want your brother to catch you listening in on the grown-ups. He won’t like it.”
Her eyes widen, another layer of fear. “I’m quiet. He won’t know.”
“He’s smart. He’ll catch you.”
She considers my argument for a moment, then hangs her head in defeat.
“He could,” she agrees.
“Leave him alone,” I tell her. “He needs to fight and go to war, not worry about you. You’re a good girl, Star. You’re a good sister, so stay a good girl. Stay a good sister.”
She looks at me quizzically. “You do it. You sneak around and find out what the grown-ups are up to.”
“I’m a boy and my daddy’s gone. I’m not like you.” I push my chest out. “I’m like your brother.”
