Page 2 of Catch the Sun

If he loved us, he never would have done what he did. It’s unfathomable.

I yank myself free of his arms, pivot around, gag, then vomit on my bedroom floor. I’m hunched over, sobbing and retching, when police officers storm the bedroom and whiz past me.

Jonah doesn’t fight.

His hands fly up with surrender as he’s read his rights, the voices fusing with our mother’s painful moans.

I watch as he’s hauled away in handcuffs while Mom lies boneless on my bedroom floor. She grabs at my brother’s ankle, forcing an officer to peel her fingers away from him before they disappear down the hallway, out of sight.

Gone.

As my mother disintegrates a few feet away, I sink to the floor, collapsing near my bed, trembling in the aftermath of my hell.

I stare dazedly out the window, numb, just as the sun peeks through the clouds and bathes the sky in happy golden light.

But there is no sun in my sky.

No light.

No warmth.

All I see is red…

“How to Catch the Sun” Step One:

Chase the Horizon

The pursuit begins.

Chapter 1

Ella

Age 7

There’s a Popsicle in my mouth.

Orange.

It’s my favorite flavorandmy favorite color. But that’s not what makes it the best Popsicle in the whole world. No, it’s the best Popsicle because my best friend, Max, is eating one right beside me.

Smiling, I kick my feet back and forth on the swing as one sticky hand curls around the chain and we both sway in opposite time. Max’s twin brother, McKay, plays in the sandpit across the playground, digging plastic shovels and toy tractors into the sand and making zoomy sounds. McKay’s Popsicle is purple, but orange is way better.

It’s a perfect summer morning. The sun is extra bright and the blue sky is striped with clouds. I imagine hopping from one to another, my sneakers sinking in the mounds of fluff.

“Think we’ll get married one day like my mom and dad?” Max wonders aloud, straightening his legs out, then bending his knees as he moves back and forth on the swing.

“Sure,” I say with a firm nod.

“That would be cool, right? McKay could live with us, too.”

“I love that idea.” I smile at him, watching his mop of brown hair stick straight up when he pushes forward on the swing. “When should we get married?”

“I dunno,” he says. “When we’re older, I guess.”

“Your parents are kind of old. I don’t want to wait that long.”

“We can be younger. Maybe in a couple of years.”

---