Page 52 of Ira

Between the bottled water, wet wipes, and a travel-sized pack of tissues, I was able to somewhat get myself cleaned up and dressed, but I was still shivering in my t-shirt and there was no hope for the sweatshirt.

There was a waterproof jacket scrunched up in the bottom of the bag, and I pulled it on reluctantly, tugging at the hem. It was much smaller and tighter than the kind of thing I usually wore, but it did fit.

“We should get this over with,” I told Verner shakily. “I don’t even know how long we’ve been parked here. We’ve probably drawn attention to ourselves already. You’re going to have to wait here—there are streetlights outside, and the house will have lights on in every room. Obviously, I’d prefer you go back home because it’s safer for you there, but I get the feeling that you’re not going to do that.”

Verner drifted closer, slowly and intentionally shaking his head. The shadowy hood moved from side to side.

“Didn’t think so. Okay, stay here. I’ll be back soon.”

I carefully let myself out of the van, squeezing through the narrowest gap possible to avoid letting any light in, and locking it behind me.

It was a short walk from where I’d parked to my mother’s house, and I was immediately struck by how unchanged the single-family home I’d grown up in looked from the outside. The street lamps illuminated the low chain-link fence out front that had been out of shape when we’d moved in and had clearly never been fixed. The clay-brown paneling that covered the exterior was in need of a good clean, just like it had been on the day I’d been kicked out. From here, the house looked dark and still because—like all good Hunters—Mom had put up blackout blinds so the fact that the house was constantly illuminated on the inside wouldn’t attract attention from the neighbors.

Standing out here made me feel like a kid again. A tired kid, with too much responsibility—getting off the school bus each afternoon to somehow do my homework while helping Latika with hers, making her dinner, and getting her ready for bed. And then making sure the house was in perfect order, because I did whatever I could to alleviate my mother’s stress in the hopes that maybe it would improve her mood. That maybe she’d come home and be happy to see us for once.

There was no car in the driveway, which used to indicate with absolute certainty that Mom wasn’t home, but I wasn’t as confident of that now. Latika was grown—maybe she was the one who’d taken the car. Or maybe she didn’t live here at all, though I couldn’t imagine her moving out before she was married if she was still in Mom’s good graces.

Everything was familiar and foreign all at once.

I walked toward the house as though I belonged there in case any of the neighbors were watching, veering left at the last second to make my way around the side of the house. Would there be security cameras now? I kept looking, but as far as I could tell, I couldn’t see any.

The window in the laundry had never latched properly, and with a little jiggling, it could be opened from the outside. I’d never brought it up with Mom, because I’d always used it as a way to get in the house after school if I’d forgotten my keys, but I assumed that Latika would have told her at some point since then. Still, it was worth a shot.

My nails bent and protested as I pried away at the window, but it moved exactly the same way I remembered it, coming free with just a little wiggling.

This was definitely too easy. I didn’t trust it.

Surely enough, the first real challenge came in the form of actually getting inside the window. I was definitely heavier than I’d been at seventeen, and apparently I’d lost all of my upper-body strength at some point since then too. By the time I’d hefted myself up and climbed awkwardly over the basin, I’d kicked on a tap and knocked over a bottle of fabric softener. There was nothing stealthy about it.

You’re here now,I told myself sternly.Too late to turn back.

The house was silent as I crept out into the hallway, grateful that the ancient carpet disguised my footsteps. The room Latika and I had once shared was at the end of the corridor, and my heart pounded in my chest with each step I took toward it.

“You can’t be here.”

I startled, spinning around to find my sister staring at me, a hard look on her face. Gone was the baby-faced teenager Latika had been when I’d last seen her. She looked older now. Wiser. More jaded.

We looked more similar now than we’d ever looked as children, though she wore her hair shorter and was far more toned than I’d ever been.

“How are you, Latika?”

Her expression flickered slightly, but it was only the briefest moment of hesitation before she shored herself up again. “Why are you breaking into the house, Meera?”

“I need to collect some things I left behind.”

She scoffed. “It’s been eight years. Your stuff was thrown out the day after you left.”

“I doubt you would have found this.”

Latika narrowed her eyes. “It doesn’t matter. You have to leave. I’ll be nice and let you walk out the door. Mom will be home soon, and she won’t be so friendly about it.”

I looked at my sister for a long moment, trying to find something in her that I recognized. This had been the worst-case scenario that I’d been preparing myself for. The perfect little Hunter robot who never put a toe out of line because she’d probably been traumatized with stories about my fate.

And even if Mom had never mentioned me at all, which was a distinct possibility, Latika would have felt my absence. She’d been the spirited, rebellious second child to my responsible and obedient eldest daughter once upon a time. Undoubtedly, some of that responsibility had fallen on her shoulders after I’d left.

“Look, I understand that you don’t want to see me. I know I shouldn’t be here, and that I’m putting you in a difficult position. I wouldn’t have risked it if it wasn’t important, Latika.”

She stared, her throat working hard as she swallowed. My baby sister was in there somewhere, locked away behind protective walls of her own making.Thatwas something I recognized.

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