2

There was nothing more he could do—in that moment he felt worse than he could have anticipated. It was as if a part of him just broke off, a piece of his soul was ripped away without a second thought. His sister was leaving him behind, just as he secretly feared she might always do. He loved her dearly, had tried with every ounce of his person to make her happy and give her a shot at a normal life. He failed her—had been unable to protect someone he deeply cared for. He knew Georgette would agree with his sister. She would tell him that it was time to let go. But Harmony walking away from the rest of the family, from him, did not sit right. How would she survive? Surely her therapist wasn’t going to be enough. Did she have a plan? He prayed to some unknown force that she would see the error in her ways and return to them once she cooled off. This was worse than when she’d been institutionalized—at least Dave had known where to find her then. Now, he had no clue as to what her next move would be. But once again, he was unable to control the actions of all but himself.

Dave sat in that parking lot for twenty minutes, waiting for her to return. He figured he’d sit there all night if he had to. Just long enough until he knew she was in good hands. But fate had other plans in store. His phone dinged with a message from Georgie: Come home, please.

Dave’s mind swung to the irrational—his first thought was Desiree. He texted back quickly: What is it? Are you hurt?

She was already typing again: I’m fine, but I have news I’d rather tell you in person.

Dave swallowed the lump that was forming in his throat. Trying to block out the thought of never seeing his sister again, he pulled out of the parking lot and turned his mind back towards home. What news could she possibly have for him?

Hadn’t there been enough surprises this week? Dave’s stomach rolled—he was so tense. The sensation of knives stabbing into his muscles persisted with no sympathy. His head was aching, his eyes unbelievably exhausted. A quick glance in the mirror confirmed all the dread he was experiencing was real—he looked as if he aged ten years overnight.

Georgette was waiting for him on the front porch, a cigarette dangling between her thin fingers. It forcibly reminded him of his last rational conversation with his sister. Had that really been a little over a week ago? It seemed like centuries to Dave. He approached his wife warily, waiting for the next bomb to drop. She wasn’t crying and she didn’t look angry—those were good signs. But she was nervous and eyeing him with caution. Dave did not like that.

“Do I look that bad?” he attempted to joke as she shook her head.

“Sit down, darling,” she began, patting the smooth wood at her side.

Dave cautiously joined her.

“No more bad news,” he whispered with a plea.

She looked at him, “Not bad, no. Just...unexpected.”

His mind flew to pregnancy—but that was impossible, Georgette went through menopause a few years back—as if Dave could ever forget the mood swings and night sweats.

“Georg—“

“Sam’s left.”

"What?”

“Her and Alex...they left.”

“Left? Left to where?”

Georgette sighed as she handed him a note, “Now please, don’t get upset,” she pleaded.

Dave felt his heart skip two beats as he unfolded the letter:

Mom,

I’ll FaceTime you tonight, but this letter is just so you don’t freak out when you can’t get ahold of me. Alex and I are leaving Repo. I fucking hate this place and he got offered a great opportunity up North, in a city with actual people. I can’t stay here anymore—after a sparkling conversation with your husband, I realize I’ve never belonged. I know you are happy, but I’m not. I found my person and we want to be together. I don’t want the drama anymore, especially now that Dave has fucked up his own reputation.

I miss you already.

Come visit soon. Alone.

Sam

p.s. passed my license exam this morning with flying colors!

“She can’t—” he began, feeling the paper slide from his fingers in a stupor.

“Georgette, we have to find her.”

“Darling, please don’t panic, I know how this may seem—”

“It is completely inappropriate! She’s not even 17!”

“She will be in two months.”

“Then she can get her ass back here until then.”

“Dave—” she tried to interrupt again.

“How could you let her leave? With that man!” his voice was filled with anger.

“I thought you were warming up to Alex?”

“That doesn’t change the fact that what they are doing is completely wrong! Dammit!” he jumped to his feet, smashing his fist into the railing. Georgette started at his outburst.

“I understand this is difficult for you, that you feel responsible...”

“I am responsible!”

“But you’re not. Even if you hadn’t spoken to Sam, she still would have left. She just wanted to throw a little salt in the wound before she did.”

“She tried to engage me the other morning, truly, for the first time ever and I blew her off,” his voice broke on the last syllable as he covered his face with his hand and turned away. He was splintering at the seams.

“This is not your fault, Dave. At the end of the day, she’s my daughter.”

“Exactly! How are you not freaking out!?” he demanded rather roughly.

“Because, I firmly believe in letting things go. A practice I think you should consider implementing.”

“Harmony would agree with you. She’s gone.”

Georgette looked startled for the first time. “Gone? What do you mean, gone?”

He shrugged, “She wants nothing to do with me.”

“She will come around. You know how much she loves you.”

“I don’t think she will, Georg. She blames me for her entire life.”

“We both know that’s neither true nor fair.”

“It really doesn’t matter what we know, because at the end of the day the result is still the same—they are gone.”

Dinner was a quiet affair that night—just him and Georgette...ironically that was what he’d been craving not long ago...and now the reality of the situation was so much worse.

They spoke very little. Georgette kept throwing him sideway glances, hoping that his temper passed. It had. To be replaced with bone weariness that forced Dave to rise from the table after only eating two bites of his roast chicken. He spent most of dinner just moving the food around his plate like his sister would. He briefly wondered where Samantha was, if she was safe. His wife’s nonchalance over the situation was making him sick.

He excused himself and retired early, hoping that sleep would bring him a few hours of nothingness. A small sliver of Dave even hoped that morning would not come at all. That he would never wake up again.