Page 47 of Forsaken Oath

A smile tugs up one side of her mouth, and she huffs a small laugh. “It’s nothing, I’m sure. Joey D. said he saw Mom behind the bowling alley in town . . .”

I clench my teeth to stop myself from saying something I might regret. She needs someone in the house to be level-headed, and since Margot will pop off at the slightest provocation, that leaves me.

“Lots of people go bowling. What’s so bad about that?”

“No,” she says with a sigh, her cheeks turning red as she looks over my shoulder. “He said he saw Mom behind the bowling alley . . .doing stuffwith his uncle.”

I tsk. “Sounds like bullshit to me, Vivie. Why would this kid even be out walking around like that on his own?”

“Don’t worry about him or any other punk at school, okay? I’m going to talk to Principal Heyward tomorrow, and we’re gonna figure it out. But until then, don’t let them get to you. You know why kids lash out like that? Why they make up lies and say mean things to other kids?”

She shakes her head.

“It’s a learned behavior. This is all they know. Their parents or siblings or family talk like that to one another, and then they pick it up. So, every time what’s-his-face tries to talk shit to you, I want you to remember that he must have a very sad life to say such things. And then you?—”

“Punch him in the face,” Margot says from the doorway.

Vivie and I both startle, turning to look at her at the same time. Laughter bubbles up in my chest before I can stuff it down. I know I shouldn’t encourage Margot’s go-to plans for these things, but I’m tired. And I already gave Vivie the “right thing to do” pep talk.

“I wasn’t gonna say all that, but you know what we always say: We don’t start fights, but?—”

“We finish ’em,” the three of us say at the same time before we all laugh.

“All right.” I push up from Vivie’s bed, squeezing her hand once and bending down to kiss the top of her head. “I’m going to go pick up the kitchen. Lights out in twenty minutes, okay?”

“Yep.” Vivie flops onto her back with a dramatic sigh. “I just hope I get to read the part where this one guy realizes his mistake before bed. I’ve been waiting on this reveal for like half the book.”

“I hope so too. Have a good sleep, Viv. Love you.”

“Love you, Louie,” she sing-songs back, her face already in her book.

Margot calls her goodnights and follows me down the hall. I can practically feel the questions eating away at her. She’s been like a dog with a bone these last couple of days.

When my foot hits the linoleum of the kitchen, she blurts, “Well?”

I chuckle and start filling up the sink to do the rest of the dishes. I think I’m gonna do a little baking tonight, and our kitchen isn’t big enough to bake in if it isn’t clean. “Well, what?”

“Oh my god, Louie, don’t play games with my heart right now. Did you hear from them?”

For a split second, I think she’s talking about Beau, but I shake my head, dispelling that thought. It doesn’t even make sense.

“Nope. I told you I’d let you know the moment I heard.”

She sighs, this big noisy heave of breath that sounds like a deflating balloon. “Yeah, I know.” She slumps over on the counter, elbows on it, head planted in her hands. “Wishful thinking, I guess.”

I shrug and start washing the pans. I cooked a weird casserole dish for dinner, and the bottom stuck to the pan, hard grains of rice burned to a crisp. I guess I need to add more water next time. Didn’t know that making jasmine rice has a different water ratio than other rice.

“I might not make it, you know.” It’s a gentle reminder for the both of us.

“Nah, I refuse to believe that. This is your destiny, sis. This is your ticket outta here.”

“Yeah, well, it might not be. I’m not gonna tie all my hopes and dreams on it, ya know?” I don’t look at her, keeping my focus on scrubbing the pan clean.

It’s quiet, but I don’t hear her footfalls, so I know she’s not done yet. It’s not like my sister to bite her tongue, not when it comes to me. We’re not close enough in age to have that kind of sisterly relationship I always dreamed about, the kind you see on TV shows and movies. But trauma has a way of bonding anyone, and while she was never quite young enough for the sister/parental line to blur like it did with Vivie, she and I are in this gray area.

I look over my shoulder, and sure enough, she’s staring right at me, her lips rolled inward like she’s physically stopping herself from saying whatever’s on her mind.

“All right, out with it.”

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