Page 35 of Home Is Where the Bodies Are

We enter the Grove, and I turn slowly onto our road. Up ahead, Michael’s car is veering into our driveway.Perfect timing.He’s already parked and stepping out of his vehicle when we pull in. Michael delivers a small wave and a smaller smile when he spots us. He swings his messenger bag over his shoulder and grabs a Walmart shopping bag from his back seat. I park my old car next to his, and we exit.

“Where were you two?” he asks, putting a hand up to his brow to shield his eyes from the sun.

“Treatment,” Nicole says. “And you?”

“Oh...” he pauses and appraises her, like he’s checking her over. “You good?”

She tells him yeah. He doesn’t ask about the manila envelope clutched in her hand, and she doesn’t offer an explanation for it.

He extends the Walmart bag to me. “I picked up a new headlight for you while I was in town. I can install it later, if you’d like.”

“Thanks,” I say, taking it from him. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“I know but I wanted to.”

It’s hard to see Michael as a full-grown man, when he’s always been my little brother. I don’t know what I was expecting when I saw him again. I wanted to hate him, still do. But he’s making it hard. So maybe the only person I actually hate is myself.

“Well,” I say, gesturing to the house. “Shall we get back to work?” My brother and sister nod and follow behind, their shoes shuffling against the concrete. I pull open the screen door; the hinges squeak, but then I stop. Something’s not right.

“What the hell,” I say, noticing the busted doorjamb and splintered wood near the handle. The door is ajar, just an inch or so.

“What? What is it?” Michael asks.

“Beth,” Nicole says.

“Someone broke in.”

“Move.” Michael shuffles me aside so he can enter first. He doesn’t say it in a rude way. He’s being protective.

He pushes the door open slowly, peeks his head in, and pauses to listen before entering.

“Should we call the police?” I ask.

Neither Nicole nor Michael responds. I creep in behind Michael, despite him motioning for us to stay back. The cupboards and drawers in the kitchen have been pulled open. Items are strewn everywhere like someone was looking for something. The living room is a bigger mess. All the boxes have been emptied, even the ones we had already sorted through. Michael grabs the broom and wields it like a sword while he moves through the house, room by room. Nicole tiptoes into the living room, letting out a heavy sigh when she sees the mess.

“Who would do this?” I ask. “And why?”

My eyes flick to the VCR. The tape with the deadly secret is still sitting on top of it, seemingly untouched, unlike all the others. They’re scattered across the floor, mixed in with all of our parents’ other belongings.

The ladder to the attic creaks as it’s pulled open. Then there are footsteps up the ladder and on the floor above. My shoulders tense as I glance at the ceiling.

“All clear,” Michael yells.

I exhale. The ceiling creaks and moans as he makes his way through the attic and back down the ladder. It closes, smacking back into place with a thud.

“What about the other rooms?” I ask as Michael enters the living room. He lets out a heavy sigh, then leans the broom against the wall.

“They were ransacked too.”

“Is anything missing?” I ask.

“I don’t know. I can’t tell because they tore this place apart, and I’m not even sure what’s all in here.”

Nicole is frozen in place, picking at the plaster on her cast and staring off at nothing.

“Should we call the police?” I ask again.

“Yeah, probably. Just in case anything was taken,” Michael says with a shrug.

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