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My lips twitch. “I’m all ears.”
She straightens as if she’s readying for battle with me, and I groan. “I’m afraid to ask what that brain of yours just came up with.”
With a sly smile, she says, “This is what you’re gonna do.”
CHAPTERTWENTY-FIVE
Marcus
Areporter, Marcus?” my mother gasps dramatically. “How could you be so careless?”
“A journalist,” I correct her, wondering why I even bother.
It’s not like I’ve thought about the woman every passing minute since leaving Topica Bay.
She stares with pinched lips. “The point is, you’ve put your brother’s job and this family in jeopardy.”
Her disappointment stings, and up until now, I would’ve sacrificed everything to avoid it.
Mortie sits between her and our father on the couch in my living room with his elbows on his knees, uncharacteristically quiet and avoiding my gaze.
Dad sits back and removes his glasses to scrub a hand down his weary face. “I’ll have to call in another favor. It won’t be easy, but we’ll do what we have to do to keep her from submitting that story.”
“That won’t be necessary,” I’m quick to say. “Besides, it’s likely already been submitted.”
Heather may have done me dirty, but I’ll be damned if she’s ever on the tail end of one of my father’s ‘favors.’ In fact, if it weren’t for finding out what she’d been hiding, I wouldn’t have had the courage to stand before them today with two separate, life-altering proposals.
“Great, we’re screwed,” Mortie says.
I study my family with a fresh set of eyes.
They’ve been living at my place in Seattle ever since we left the hospital in LA to keep him away from temptation and the media. But where I’m tanned from exposure to the sun, and toned from the labor of working in the barn, the three of them look no different than they did a month ago. Drained, exhausted, and hollow.
“We can’t keep doing this,” I say.
Mom places her hand between Mortie’s shoulder blades. “There’s no other choice. You know what the loan sharks will do the minute we stop paying them.”
I hate the lingering fear in her eyes, but if my time in Topica Bay has taught me anything, it’s that everyone has a choice. Some choices are just harder to make than others.
Leah’s bracelet shines in the overhead lights of my living room when I hold it out to them. “Uncle Patrick helped me find a buyer for this. They’re coming to pick it up tomorrow.”
I fight a fresh onslaught of grief. It’s not that I want to sell the only piece of my sister that we have left, because honestly, if I could keep it, I would. And while difficult, I’m hoping the outcome is worth it.
Dad re-situates his glasses on the bridge of his nose as if gearing up to say something, but it’s Mom who leans forward.
“Marcus, no. We can figure something else out,” she says. “We’ll sell the house if we have to.”
My beaten heart aches for our broken family. For the sacrifices we’ve made, the struggles, and the appearances we’ve tried to maintain as the perfect family. But mostly, for the pain we’ve endured while desperately clinging to Leah’s ghost.
“You all know Leah’s last wish was for me to hold onto this. But I’ve come to realize something I don’t think I would have had I never gone back to Augustine.”
Mortie gradually lifts his head, and though he still looks miserable, I’m glad for the small amount of progress he’s made.
“She was everywhere, Mort. In the trees, the music, the people. And I spent nearly a month rebuilding that old barn, hoping to finally lay this guilt I’ve been carrying around to rest. I was the happiest I’ve been in too long, and I missed our sister, I did. But I was also missing you.”
He shifts uncomfortably. “Why are you saying all this?”
“Because you may be my twin, but I don’t recognize you anymore. And maybe if I had been here to fight your demons with you, instead of detaching myself from the situation, things would be different than they are now.” I pause, nervous to give them the rest. “You’ll never know how sorry I am for that, but while I can’t change the past, I can offer you a better, more stable future.”
