CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Eve

May 29, 2019

I’m scared. Terrified. I know the girl who just moved into the bunk above me. When she came in, I acted like I was sleeping and buried my face in the blankets. An hour must have gone by as I waited for her breathing to grow heavy enough for me to grab my journal and write by the light from the streetlamp outside the window. It’s got to be one in the morning by now.

I met her years ago, under the bridge that goes to the freeway. She was Joey’s girl then. I heard rumors after we got together that she’d like to kill me. Joey is her baby daddy. She thought that would mean something. But he loved me. He told me so. And most of the time, he took care of me and the kids.

Joey’s out there somewhere, hiding. The cops will be after him. I feel like this is all my fault. I never should have gone out that night. I made him feel like I didn’t trust him.

How am I supposed to sleep when the mattress keeps squeaking above me?

Zara scooped up the wrappers from their fast-food dinner, something she felt an unbalanced amount of guilt for, and stuffed them into the trash, being sure no remnants remained to be seen from the laptop camera.

“Let’s give it a trial run.” Chad clicked on the app, and there they were, the two of them looking back at their own images.

This wasn’t like seeing herself in the bathroom mirror. Somehow, she had to prepare herself for that reflection, giving effort to see what she needed in the glass. The camera on the computer didn’t ask if she was ready, if she’d put on her confident expression and unbreakable façade. It didn’t even give her the chance to brush the hair out of her face.

The image that greeted her was her sister’s. She saw Eve on the screen sitting next to Chad. She saw her sadness, her worry, her need to fit in. She saw all the things in her sister that Zara had been too young to understand. Then she saw the tears fill her eyes and spill over, and she had to face reality. The person on the screen was her, but it was also Eve. Even after years apart, Eve was her missing half.

Chad brought her into his arms and stroked her hair. “Hey now. What’s this about?” His words were gentle, but the question was so large and heavy.

Zara shook her head against his chest. “I don’t know.” But really, she just didn’t have the words to help him understand. She’d abandoned her identical twin. She’d left her with their mother, with the pain of losing their brother, with the fears of what each day would bring, and she’d started her own life without inviting Eve. Zara had lived the dream, but as half a person.

A computerized ring shocked her straight, an incoming call that must be Rita.

Chad didn’t touch the keyboard. His gaze remained pinned on her.

“I’m fine. Answer it.” Zara leaned out of the camera’s range and wiped her eyes, pushed back her hair, and took a calming breath, then popped up next to her husband with a smile covering what was missing in her heart. “Hi, Rita. How are the little ones doing?”

There was a relief in Rita’s features she didn’t even try to hide, like she never quite trusted that they’d hold up their end. But they would. Zara was committed to doing this for the kids, but also for Eve. She owed her sister that much. “They’re wonderful. In fact, you can see for yourselves.” Rita turned her head and called for Charlotte.

When the girl appeared, Zara saw something in her she’d missed before, maybe fear. She wanted to ask what was worrying her, but there were so many possible answers, almost all of which Zara could do nothing about. “Hi there.”

“Hi.”

“Do you remember us?”

She looked down, then made eye contact again. “I know. You’re my aunt and uncle. Rita tells me about you. She says Sammy and I are coming to stay with you.”

“That’s right.” Chad’s hand curled around Zara’s. “Does Samuel like to be called Sammy?”

“Yes. That’s his name.”

“What about you? Do you have a special name you like to be called?”

She leaned back on Rita’s chest. “My mom calls me Charlie, but that’s just for her, okay?”

“I understand.”

Chad tilted his head. “Charlotte, do you have any questions for us? Anything you really like that you want us to know about?”

“I want to know where you were before. My mom wrote to you. Why didn’t you come?”

Her gaze stared into Zara’s heart and tore it apart. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t get any letters from your mom. I would have come if I’d known you needed help.” But that was a lie. It was one of those untruths you told to avoid hurting someone else, or perhaps to keep from hurting yourself with the truth. “Charlotte, I’m really sorry. But Chad and I are here now. We’re not going anywhere.”

A tiny smile lifted the sides of her mouth, not enough to look joyful, but a hint that she could be okay someday. Then she was gone, out of view from the camera.

“She’s going to be all right,” Rita said. “It takes time for kids like Charlotte to learn trust. She’s been in the midst of trauma her entire life.” She turned to the side and grinned. “What do we have here?”

A moment later, Sammy’s drooling face filled the entire screen. He saw them and broke into a round of perfect baby giggles. Thank God he hadn’t outgrown that yet. Zara was suddenly overwhelmed with the honor that she had the fortune to be there for a bit of his life, to enjoy the times like this one when she could see her nephew giving over to the all-out wonder of living. He was perfection, the spitting image of her brother in happy, healthy days. She’d take this as evidence that Hunter syndrome didn’t take every male child in her family.

By the time they ended the call—not long, as the kids’ attention span could be counted in single-digit minutes—Zara was in love with both kids and ready to fight for their lives. Whether it was only for months or a year, she’d give them every bit of hope she could in that time, because life was sometimes great. And she’d been blessed enough to find that out.