Page 64 of KAI Tortured

“I kinda remember her saying that she wrote that by mistake or something, but that she was happy to take a photo with it,” I add.

“Yeah, it says ‘I’m sorry,’” Orion confirms.

“Do you think that’s a message for us?” Logan asks. Maybe he’s holding onto a sliver of hope, desperate for any evidence that she was thinking about us.

I come across a book that she read to me when I was little and my heart leaps. “Oh my god! I haven’t seen this book in forever! It was my favorite!” I pull it out of the box. “She read it to me every single night. ‘The Three Little Wolves and the Big Bad Pig.’”

I pass it to Logan, who opens it and flips through the pages. “What kind of book is this? I remember the three little pigs, but not wolves?” he asks.

“Yeah, that’s why I loved it, it was different,” I say.

Logan turns back to the inside cover, then stops and stares at it. “This is a message from her. No doubt about it.”

“I don’t remember any message,” I say. “I haven’t seen this book since I was five.”

“To Kai, may you find your wolfpack one day,” Logan reads aloud as Orion peers over his shoulder.

“Fuck me,” I mutter.

Orion leans back in his chair, and Logan comes back to the couch. The three of us must be thinking the same thing. She did leave us clues.

“Do you have any other photos of her?” Orion asks.

“Possibly, I just have to sift through more junk in my father’s basement.”

“Do that,” Logan says, tracing her written words in the book with his finger.

“Look, each of these items is a memory of her, and if it makes you feel connected, I want you to have them,” I say. “Either the photos or the book.”

“And you?” Logan asks, sounding wary.

“I have my memories of her, Logan.”

“Thanks, Kai. I want the Thanksgiving photo,” Orion says.

I didn’t expect him to want anything, but it’s clear he’s as affected by this as I am. He just hides it better. “I think Logan would appreciate holding on to the book,” I suggest.

Logan nods. “Thanks, Kai. Her message did get through.”

“Don’t mention it,” I say. “You know, if her family never got killed, I wonder if we’d have been born to her at some point when she got married, never to experience mafia life, or if we’d be born to whoever our fathers slept with, and never be brothers at all.”

“What?” Logan frowns, trying to make sense of it while I laugh on the outside, but there’s a lump forming in my throat. If we continue this conversation, I’m gonna start crying. And I don’t do that.

Maisy shows up in all her glory, in a very tiny white top and a pair of white panties. “What’s going on?”

“Kai’s become a philosopher,” Orion scoffs.

“What’s all this?” She picks up the photo of the Thanksgiving dinner, and her eyes almost bulge out of her head. She looks at me, then at Orion, then Logan. “Your mother! That’s her! Look!”

“You’re sure it’s her, right?” Logan asks.

“Yes! This one here, holding the card!” Maisy points to the face in the photo. “Where did you get these?”

“From my basement. Come, sit next to me, Maisy.” I pat the space beside me on the couch. I set the old box on the coffee table and lean back, and she throws herself down on the seat, her boobs jiggling.

“Your boobs are big,” I joke.

She immediately shoots back up to her feet. “If we’re gonna talk about this, I’m going to my room.” She’s clearly not ready to talk about her body changing, or even the prospect of her being pregnant.

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