Chapter 11

“No, don’t leave,” Mom is at it again. “Why do you have to go back to that house, Noah? You’ll be alone. Stay here for a few days. Let us look after William.”

Noah has been living with us for almost three weeks now. Mom is starting to look more alive, no longer a walking skeleton of herself. She’s eating again. Not talking to herself in circles. Some of that is thanks to Noah, and William. Their presence keeps her from collapsing into the full weight of her grief. But Noah has his own life. He can’t stay with us forever.

“Honey,” my father tries, his voice gentle, like it always is, but she shuns him with a wave of her hand.

“Don’t speak to me. I don’t want them to go. Don’t try to convince me.”

“I can leave Will,” Noah says, and the sound of his voice breaks my heart. He doesn’t sound like himself anymore. The Noah I remember always had light in his tone, that effortless warmth. Now, it’s like something in him has been extinguished. The only time I see any flicker of that old light is when he’s looking at Will.

But he’s eating. He bathes. He reads to Will. He’s trying. He looks like he’s functioning. Even if it’s all a quiet act.

“Then you’d be alone in that house,” Dad says gently. “It’s not advisable.”

He’s right. We all know it. That house will be too empty. Too silent. Too full of Elena. Still, I can see it in Noah’s face, he wants to go.

“Then, !” Mom suddenly grabs my arm, pulling me off the stairs where I’ve been standing, watching the exchange. Her grip is urgent, her eyes bright with desperation. “Take Esmeray with you.”

I blink at her and protest. “Mom, look at you, you need someone to take care of you. Noah can come and go. You’ll still be able to see them.”

“I have your father to look after me,” she says, a hint of that condescending fire sparking in her eyes. “I don’t need you. Go with Noah, where you’ll be useful.”

“Actually,” Noah raises his voice just a little, calm but firm, “I think I’ll be fine on my own. Ray, you don’t have to.” I feel a flicker of worry stir inside me.

“You won’t be able to care for William,” Mom rushes out, as if someone might steal her words before she can say them. “You need someone to look after the two of you.”

“My mom plans to visit often,” Noah replies easily, brushing her off. “And I don’t need a babysitter. I can care for Will on my own.”

He means it. He’s determined. Unlike before, when he always changed his mind under Mom’s grief, now he looks like he won’t budge. He’s leaving, with or without Will, and he doesn’t want me to come.

“Are you sure?” I surprise myself by asking. “Because I can stay a day or two to help you settle.”

He looks at me. His smile is warm, but mostly practiced, habitual. “Thanks, Ray, but I really am okay.”

Dad, Mom, and I have no choice but to let him go when he’s so determined. But I can’t sleep that night. I see Elena in my dream, trying to tell me something, trying to warn me, but I don’t know what, until I wake up sweating, even though the weather is cold.

Life goes on as if the sun never disappeared from our lives. Dad starts going back to work, he owns a large convenience store a few streets down, and Mom works at the city council, but most days she can’t get out of bed. I have to sit beside her with a tray of food and beg, coerce even, to get her to eat.

“Check on Noah,” she says before turning her back to me. She’s fading away, and I start to worry for her.

“If I go,” I say, “will you stop wallowing in bed and try to get up? Try to clean yourself?” My mother, who’s always been obsessed with cleanliness and grooming, looks like a mess. Tissues scatter across her bedroom floor, her hair sticks up wild, and her pajamas look like they needed washing three days ago. This can’t continue. I won’t lose my sister and then my mother in the same year.

“Elena is gone, but I know she wouldn’t want you to live the rest of your life like this.”

“What do you know about it?” she mumbles, muffled by her pillow.

“What?” I ask, not because I’m surprised or didn’t hear her, but because it’s the only thing I can say.

She turns to me, dark eyes glaring. “You never cared. Always too caught up in yourself to have any interest in the lives of others.”

“That’s not true, and it’s not fair.”

“What part is a lie?” she snaps, sitting up so fast it startles me. The light from the window cuts across her face in a sharp line, and for a moment, she looks unhinged. “Did you not abandon your sister? Your family? When we needed you the most?”

“I was trying to live my life.”

“And it was me and Elena who made it impossible for you to do that right here?”

I can’t say it out loud, but yes. That’s exactly how it was. It was unbearable. I had to leave. What I should’ve done was come back. But running, that’s always been the right answer. At least for me.

“You, ” I rake my fingers through my hair, stepping back, searching for words that won’t cut but still prove a point and finding none. “Okay. Maybe I left when you needed me. But I’m back now. Doesn’t that count for something?”

“No!” she barks. “Because your sister is dead. Dead, Esmeray! And her husband and her child need you, but you’d rather haunt this house, doing nothing. You drift around like a ghost, terrifying me every time I see your face. When I look at you, I see your sister. The one who should be here, but isn’t. And it’s driving me insane. It’s killing me. So why don’t you do one thing right for once in your life, Esmeray, just go. Get out. Leave.”

She’s shouting by the end, and every word lands like a knife into my chest. I flinch, but I don’t move.

“So what,” I say, voice trembling, “you’d be happier if it was me instead of Elena?”

She doesn’t answer.

She doesn’t need to.

I already know the truth.

I have never been my mother’s child. Just a replica of her. Like God answered her prayer twice by accident, and she didn’t know what to do with the second one.

I swallow hard and blink until the tears pooling in my eyes dry back. “Fine,” I say, trying to keep my voice from shaking. “Since you don’t need me, I’ll go live with Noah. I’ll take care of William. Like Elena would’ve wanted. I’ll do everything you want me to do, so Mom, just… just stop hating me. Because I’m the only daughter you’ve got left.”

The tears fall anyway. I don’t try to stop them.

I turn and walk away without waiting for a word from her. The door shuts behind me with her face turned away and my back to her, two people facing in opposite directions, like we’ve always been.