Page 3 of Lotus

Sometimes, I swear Ifeelhim or hear him whisper my name…

Syd.

Oliver’s old bedroom is adjacent to my office, which used to be a playroom when my sister and I were kids. I have vivid memories of shouting knock-knock jokes from window to window, playing ‘telephone’ with a string and two tin cans, and telling ghost stories with flashlights underneath our chins. On that final day, July 4th, 1998, we made plans to go seeThe Parent Trapwhen it released later that month. Our mothers were best friends and loved taking us to the movies—we’d giggle through our popcorn and gummy candy, while my mom and his mom, Charlene, snuck wine into the theater and giggled more than we did.

I never did seeThe Parent Trap.

To this day, I still haven’t seen it. It never felt right seeing it without him.

With a final glance over to Oliver’s window, which is now dark and filled with boxes and junk, I finish drying off the portrait and move it to a safer location in the corner of the room. I choke down my emotions and try to refocus.

Before I can settle in again, my ringtone goes off. It’s theX-Filesopening credits music, which means it’s my sister. I send her to voicemail, flustered that I’ve made zero progress with my deadlines and it’s already almost ten A.M.

She shoots me a text instead.

Clem:Answer me, hoochy

I groan.

Me:I’m working, skank

Clem:I need you to watch Poppy this weekend. Pretty please. No cherries on top because I ate them.

A grin slips as I sigh and text her back.

Me:I’m working at the bar this weekend, but I can bring her with me. We can make fabulous memories and learn about what choices not to make when she grows up. Plus, Brant is sure to teach her some colorful new words, AAAND there’s a wet t-shirt contest going on. #auntniecebondingherewecome

Clem:I’ll ask Regina.

Clem follows up her text with an abundance of aggravated emojis, and I can’t help but laugh, silencing my phone and running downstairs to make another pot of coffee.

That asshole stood me up.

Gabe and I decided on seven o’clock for ourAlways Sunny in Philadelphiabinge-fest, and it’s almost eight. The taco dip is dwindling away with every scoop of my tortilla chip, while Alexis lies perched in my lap. I pluck off my glasses and reach for my cell, prepared to blow up Gabe’s phone with David Hasselhoff memes. He probably found a hot girl to cozy up with tonight, which is perfectly fine, but he could have filled me in on his change of plans.

Instead, I see a missed text from Clementine.

Clem:Sis. Turn on the news.

I frown. She knows I don’t have basic cable—only Netflix and Hulu like most millennials these days. I’m about to open Facebook, my preferred news source, when I notice flashing lights reflecting in my television screen. I pull myself up to my knees on the couch and peek through the curtain, my mouth going dry.

Gabe’s house is surrounded by police cruisers.

What the hell?

At first, I wonder if he’s having one of his parties, but there are no other cars in the driveway, and I didn’t hear any music or loud noise.

Shit. Something’s wrong.

Nausea sweeps through me like a windstorm, taking my breath away. I don’t think twice before pulling on my winter boots and running out the front door in nothing but my sweatpants andRugratst-shirt. The crisp air is a welcome contrast to the heat prickling my skin.

My head twists to the right, spotting Lorna Gibson standing on her front porch, taking in the scene. One hand clasps her cross pendant while the other cups her mouth, and her eyes aren’t filled with their usual scorn and judgment—they are filled with tears.

Heart racing and knees begging to buckle, I gather my courage and trudge through the thin layer of snow coating my lawn. The police lights are blurry as I make a clumsy trek over to Gabe’s, realizing I forgot to put my glasses back on. When I reach his front stoop, I don’t bother to knock. I yank open the screen and push inside, almost hitting an officer with the door. Three unfamiliar faces turn to look at me with pinched brows and tight lips.

“Are you a friend of the family?” one of them asks.

My voice trembles as I respond, “Where’s Gabe? Is he hurt?”

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