15

Mark’s Point of View

“Fuck…”

The word slipped out before I could stop it. I ran both hands down my face and stared up at the ceiling like it held answers I’d never get.

I hadn’t expected her to run. I thought she’d scream, maybe cry, slap me even. But not run away like I was some kind of monster.

I guess maybe I am.

“Man, you good?” Karel asked from across the garage, wiping grease off his hands and eyeing me carefully.

I didn’t answer right away.

What could I even say?

“No,” I finally muttered, voice low. “I saw my baby sister for the first time in years and she looked at me like I was a fucking ghost.”

Karel sat down beside me on the metal workbench, leaning forward. “She thought you were dead, right?”

I nodded slowly, jaw clenched. “Yeah. Because I let her believe that.”

“She didn’t look ready to see you, man.”

“I know.” My voice cracked on the words. “I just— I miss her. I missed so many of her birthdays. Her drawings. Her music. I missed being her big brother.”

The image kept replaying in my head: her eyes wide, body frozen, lips whispering my name like it hurt to say it.

Then the way she turned and ran. Like I was danger.

“I don’t blame her, you know,” I said after a long pause.

“I disappeared. I left her with Mom. I thought it would keep her safe. I thought staying away meant she’d live.”

Karel was quiet, just nodding.

“But seeing her now… all grown, scared, and still sweet as hell… it’s killing me.”

I leaned forward, gripping my hands together tightly.

“I thought maybe I’d get a chance to explain. To tell her why. But I scared her, K. I scared my own sister.”

“You’ll get your chance,” he said, clapping a hand on my back.

“She needs time. But if you love her like you say, you’ll wait. You’ll earn it.”

I nodded, barely holding it together.

“I will. No matter how long it takes.”

Because I didn’t die for her to hate me.

I lived for the chance to protect her again.

Even if she never forgives me, I’ll always be her brother.

And I’m not leaving this time.

“Do you want to go see her or something?” Karel asked carefully, watching me like I might snap.

I shook my head slowly, rubbing my thumb over the ring on my pinky finger the one Missy made for me out of thread when we were kids.

I never took it off.

“We’ve got a game tonight,” I said quietly. “Against her school.”

Karel raised a brow. “Her school?”

I nodded. “Yeah. Can’t fail or Coach’ll kill my ass.”

He laughed at that, a short, dry sound. “So we wait till after the game. Then you see her. You two talk or something.”

I nodded, even though my chest still felt like it was caving in.

“Yeah. After the game.”

Karel leaned back in his chair, arms behind his head. “This isn’t gonna be easy, man.”

“No shit.”

Silence settled between us, thick and heavy like storm clouds.

My mind wandered back to that night. The party. The explosion. The screaming. The blood.

Her screaming.

That was the last thing I remembered before waking up in the hospital, lungs barely working and body full of broken bones.

They told me I was lucky.

I didn’t feel lucky.

Not when I realized Missy thought I was dead. Not when I heard what happened to Mom.

Not when I had to go into hiding, working for the Italian Mafia to survive  to stay off my father’s radar.

Karel had found me that night.

I owed him everything.

I turned to look at him, my best friend since the world flipped upside down.

“You ever think about how fucked up it is?” I said, voice rough. “That I had to disappear. That she grew up thinking I left her?”

Karel didn’t flinch.

He just looked at me, serious and calm. “You didn’t leave her, Mark. You protected her. And now she’s safe. That’s all that matters.”

I didn’t know if I believed that.

But I held onto the words anyway.

“I want to tell her everything,” I whispered. “I want her to know why.”

“Then do it. Not tonight, not tomorrow, but when the time is right.” He stood up, stretching. “You only get one sister like her.”

He was right.

Missy was my blood. My light.

And I wouldn’t mess this up again.

No matter what it took  I’d fix it.

Even if she never forgave me… I’d make sure she knew the truth.

Even if it breaks me.