Page 53 of Never Leave, Never Lie

It was all very tacky and uninspired, though. A secret affair between brothers? Falling for his mother was a weakness he wished he’d never learned about his uncle. How foolish his uncle had been to trade his life for a woman as fickle and faithless as her.

Aleksandar finished his cake and pushed the plate to the side. His father set his fork down.

“I heard about the fire,” his father said.

Aleksandar was surprised he acknowledged it, but a destroyed housewasa lot more difficult to ignore than an uncle on an extended ‘business trip’.

“And my uncle?” Aleksandar asked.

“What about him?” He wrinkled his brow, playing every bit the part of benign confusion.

Aleksandar didn’t answer. He was curious to see if his father might fill the silence with his own interpretation of the question, but his father had been the one to teach him that trick and he appeared quite serene in the quiet tension that grew between them.

Aleksandar broke first. “Does my uncle know about his house?”

“I think you’re too old to play pretend.” His father ducked his head and smiled knowingly.

Underneath an impassive facade, Aleksandar’s thoughts raced ahead of him. Did his father know what he saw? What would that mean? Was he in danger?

“I know you know your uncle is dead.” He tilted his glass back and swallowed.

Aleksandar widened his eyes in faux surprise. “May I ask how he died?”

“I said stop pretending,” his father growled.

The only other time he’d seen his father show anger was that day at the river.

Aleksandar said nothing. They weren’t going to talk about this. Ideally, they’d never talk again.

Calmer now, his father poured a fresh glass and leaned against the fireplace mantle. He bowed his head, his gaze focused on the soft pile of ashes left behind in the hearth.

“Good night, Aleksandar,” he finally said.

“Good night,father.”

Aleksandar pressed his lips together to hide his pleasure. In a game of apathy, his father had lost, and Aleksandar had won.

Aleksandar woke laterthat night to the sound of a door latching. He ran to the window and spotted his mother passing through the garden gate. Still in pajamas, he sneaked out of the house and followed the distant glow of her flashlight into the forest.

The ash-laden forest floor felt like hallowed ground as the charred husk of his uncle’s house came into view. Judging by the stuttering light that illuminated the windows, his mother was already inside. Aleksandar crept around the outside of the house, tracking his mother’s movement from room to room until she stopped at the room he knew best.

Aleksandar crouched beneath the window where the wisteria used to grow. It was the same window he’d looked out of when he learned to play the piano. He could almost hear the phantom notes.

Holding his breath, he peeked over the sill. His mother was like a ghost. Not a single hair was out of place, like she hadn’t even put her head to the pillow. It was late summer, but she wasshaking like snow was on the ground. She walked to the piano, looked under it, and circled the area several times. Her feet kicked up clouds of ash that Aleksandar could taste where he hid.

The flashlight flickered and dimmed. She banged it against her hand, but fumbled. It hit the ground with a heavy metal crash that echoed around the room and out the windows, shooting between the narrow spikes of burned tree skeletons that surrounded the house.

“Fuck,” she whispered, looking to the window.

Aleksandar ducked. Had she seen him?

He carefully looked back over the window sill, half expecting her to be staring right at him. The fall must have fixed the flashlight. It now cast a beam across the floor from where it landed. He found his mother on the floor, raking her hands through the ash.

It was absurd. His mother was graceful. She bowed to no one. Yet here she was crawling through debris on her hands and knees.

Ash settled onto her hair, painting it gray like she’d aged before his eyes. She ran a shaking hand over her face, leaving a trail of smudged soot in its wake. Her clothes were ruined. How would she hide this from his father?

“No, no, no,” she chanted in a near-silent hush as she sifted through the ash over and over again.

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