Page 45 of From Ice to Home
Micah doesn’t respond, but the tension in his posture says it all. It’s not like him to be this quick to react, but Sarah’s name hangs unspoken between us, a secret he’s not ready to share.
“Back to who?” Zach asks, not missing anything. “Are you hiding something too?” His green eyes spark with curiosity, and I know he’s going to be like a dog with a bone now.
“Less talking and more chopping,” my mom says, grabbing the cutting board that is now home to a mountain of chopped onions and mushrooms. I’m half convinced Zach chopped every onion in the vegetable drawer.
“I need to go talk to Essie,” I tell them, wiping my hands on the dishtowel.
My dad nods. His eyes meet mine. “Give her time,” he says softly. “She’s feeling more than she knows how to say.”
Stepping toward the door, I feel Micah’s gaze following me. “Good luck,” he says under his breath.
I glance back at him. “You could talk to her too, you know.”
“Why?” Micah asks, tilting his head, his lips curving into a faint smile. “She’s not mad at me.”
“Not yet,” I say with a sing-song voice before heading out the kitchen. Micah’s low chuckle follows me out the door. Wedon’t share much with our family, and they’re always mad at us because of it.
But right now, I know that I have to fix things with my little sister—even if it means sharing more than I’m comfortable with.
Reaching my sister’s room, I hesitate. The door is shut and I debate whether I should knock or just go in. Remembering the look on her face downstairs, I gently knock.
“Es?” I call softly, listening carefully for any sign of life on the other side of the door. “Can I come in for a minute?”
I’m met with nothing but silence. I didn’t expect her to open straight away, but a part of me hoped she would be curious enough about everything that she might allow me to explain what happened.
“Essie, please talk to me.”
There’s still no answer. Standing this close to her bedroom door, I notice the familiar scratches and dents from when we were little. She’s almost ten years younger than I am, but I indulged her wild imagination, pretending pirates lurked behind this door. Mom’s kitchen utensils became our swords and together we defended her room to the death.
“Come on, little one,” I say gently. “Open up so we can talk about this.”
The door jerks open. Essie stands there, her favorite light-pink tights hugging her small frame, her dark hair tied in a messy bun. Her red, tear-streaked eyes flash with anger, blazing with betrayal and hurt. The look pierces my soul.
“What do you want?” she snaps, her voice sharp enough to cut. She doesn’t move aside to let me in.
“Just let me explain—“
“Don’t pretend like you care about me or my feelings now, Hannah. Go! Get in your car and leave! You want to live a life away from us? A life that doesn’t include us? Then go! Don’t let me stop you.”
She slams the door in my face, and I’m forced to take a step back. Fresh tears sting my eyes as I inhale deeply.
Father, help me through this…help her through this.
Behind me, soft footsteps creak on the stairs. I turn to see my mom drying her hands on a dishtowel. Her expression is calm but knowing.
“Not ready to talk yet?” she asks gently.
I shake my head, unable to find the right words. Essie’s reaction caught me off guard. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her this upset about anything before. The intense anger…it shocks me.
“I knew she wouldn’t take it so well,” I murmur, glancing back at her door. “But this…” My voice trails off as I silently pray.Father, please be with her.Let your calm wash over her.
“Just give her some time,” my mom says, placing a hand on my arm. “Besides, Lucas is here to see you.”
The mention of his name sends a wave of emotions through me—relief, excitement, and something grounding. I saw him just a few hours ago, and somehow it feels like a lifetime.
I nod, looking at Essie’s door one last time before following my mom downstairs.
At the bottom of the stairs, my eyes find Lucas standing in the doorway. He looks as tired as I feel, his shoulders slightly slumped, but when he sees me, his eyes light up. For a moment, I pause, overwhelmed by the fact that we are together again. I want nothing more than to walk into his arms and let him hold me.
