Page 115 of Our Darkest Summer
“What do you think of the whole house thing?” he asked, his voice careful, like he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to ask. I kept my eyes on the water.The house.Our father’s last-ditch peace offering, or maybe just one more move in a game only he knew the rules to.
“I think it should be yours,” Connor added, and the ring stilled between my fingers. “I mean, you deserve it more.”
I deserved it more?I looked over at him. The sunlight gilded his curls, caught the edge of his cheekbone. For a moment, I didn’t see my brother. I sawher.
A quiet ache pushed through my chest. Since when did they look this much alike? The sharpness of his face, the green of his eyes… it was like looking at a breathing picture, except it wasn’t really her.
Connor glanced away, his voice quieter. “I know we don’t really talk about these things, but… I don’t think you should carry it. All of this. What happened… what didn’t.”
I blinked, my throat dry.
He looked back at me. “You know none of it is your fault, right? I mean… not what happened in the woods. Not any of it. If you hadn’t come up here, we never would’ve found her.”
I kept my features still. We never really found her anyway. We found what was once her. But she was gone, and I’d risked everything chasing a ghost. A duck quacked somewhere across the lake, and I twisted the ring again.
“What happened was my fault, Connor. There’s no reason to deny it. Good intentions don’t excuse bad execution.” I pushed the ring into my pocket.
“I’m still glad we came,” Connor said, after a moment. “I never told you this, but I always believed she left us. Well, maybe not at first, but then… the years passed, and…”
“I know,” I said.
He blinked. “You do?”
I nodded once. “After years of trying to figure out what could’ve happened with her, one day I just gave up… It was easier to believe she ran.”
At least that was what I told myself for a long time. But I was only ignoring the pain my brain couldn’t really grasp at that age.
He stared at the trees. “I used to think about her a lot. Or, tried to. Pieces came back in flashes. Her voice, sometimes. Theway she used to caress my hair until I fell asleep.” He shook his head. “But the more time passed, the less clear she became,” his voice softened. “Sometimes I feel guilty for not remembering her better.”
“You were eight.”
He nodded. “I know, but it still sucks.” His gaze found mine again. “We weren’t even allowed to talk about her. I never understood why.”
I sucked in the inside of my cheek, my eyes flickering to the lake’s gilded surface.
“I know you don’t like him,” Connor added, “but he had to have a reason, right?”
My brow twitched. “Did he?”
He could’ve just been a shitty father.
I sighed, after a moment. “He…loved her too much. Or at least that’s what I used to think. Her absence hollowed him out.”
The breath I was taking caught in my throat. I didn’t know how I would’ve reacted in his place. If Kinsley disappeared…just the thought made my stomach twist.
“So why didn’t he react today?” Connor asked, moving his legs in the water. “Why didn’t he…grieve?”
I didn’t have an answer to that. I wasn’t comfortable giving Joshua an excuse for being a shitty adult, but maybe he had nothing left to grieve with.
We went quiet again, until?—
“I didn’t want to bring this up, but,” he tipped his head, “I know what you’re doing.”
I lifted a brow, curious of what he was hinting at.
“You blame yourself,” he said, and I stilled. “Not just now, but always. For how Dad acted throughout our childhood. For what happened with Kinsley,” his voice dropped, “maybe even for Mom.”
I looked away, back at the water. It was darker now, as the sun dipped lower behind the trees. I watched the voided lake under us, and for a split second, I wanted to dive under. Just for a moment.
