Page 64 of Where We Began

“Yes, you do,” he agrees. Something cold touches my hand, the drink. I take it this time, thanking him with my nervous smile.

Swallowing the champagne, I revel in how it pops down my throat. While neither of us is old enough to drink, this is the Bradleys' home. They don't care that we're drinking at their little party.

I think about the things I want to say to her. I have a torrent of questions, a million stories both good and bad, and all are important for her to hear. We have years of catching up to do. And while I didn't think I'd see her so soon, or in a place like this, a part of me begins to soar as I cross the ballroom floor and close in on her.

“Kara?” I ask gently, though I don't doubt it's her. She might look different than she did when she was thirteen, but she looks like I do now—just with shorter hair.

The breath she pulls in steals the heat from the air. It makes her stand tall, like a length of string pulling her upwards to the ceiling from the top of her head. Kara turns until she's facing me straight on, her mouth a tiny circle, but she's less surprised than I was. The off-kilter way she stares at me melts into something cool. There's indifference in her eyes aimed at me. “Laiken, it's good to see you.”

“It's a good to see me?” I repeat, wondering why we aren't hugging. There's a strange force field around her, an energy that saysdon't touch me. It extends a foot in every direction. It takes everything I have to break through it and reach for her.

My arms circle my sister, and it feels like she'sgivingthis to me, instead of reciprocating. Her arms start to come around, but they don't finish the circle. She stiffens and then backs away, staring at Dominic beside me.

They eyeball each other. I can't read their expressions. I'm flustered, like I walked into a room of strangers when I expected it to be close friends. “Kara,” I say, “this is Dominic Bradley.”

She doesn't offer him her hand. “Nice home you have here.”

“Thanks,” he says, his arms stiff at his sides.

“I see you have drinks.” She nods at our glasses. “I'm at a disadvantage, I don't have the comfortable numbness that alcohol brings. I'll go fix that.”

“Wait!” I shout, stopping her before he leaves. Why does shewant to leave?I stumble over my tongue. “Kara, this is weird. Why are you acting like it isn't? I haven't seen you in years! I didn't know what happened to you! If you were with dad, or trapped like me... and your hair... whodid thatto you?”

My sister brushes the fine ends of her cropped hair. She doesn't look at me, but instead over the heads of the partygoers. She's unaffected by my earnest panic. Just as placidly calm as any other stranger wanting to politely end a conversation.... and I realize something that's bothering me.

Kara, my wild sister, looks so natural among these elites.

She stands in her heels like she was born in them.

“Calm down,” she says, still not looking my way. It's like she's talking to me but doesn't want anyone else to realize it, her words soft under her breath. “There are lots of things going on that you don't understand. But I'll give you a tip. Don't lose your cool in the middle of these people. The second you give them an excuse, they'll strip your skin from your bones until you're nothing.”

“Kara!” I reach for her. She moves too quickly, like she did earlier, not letting me make contact. Her rejection has me swaying, ready to collapse. I'm not capable of being angry; I'm too confused, too destroyed by her casual distaste to muster up another word as she walks away from me. I stare at her elegant, naked back until she disappears into the black suits and too white smiles.

Suddenly, I'm suffocated by all of these fake people.I need air! I can't breathe!I book it for the exit. I have to lift my dress, but I still stumble, stepping on the hem—I hear the threads tearing. The noise drives me further.

Miles gapes at me as I rush by. I wonder if he'll radio a warning, but I don't care. Right now I want to vanish into thin air. I settle for bursting through the front doors, dodging a few new guests as they enter. All of them gawk at me, and I know I must be quite a sight.

Outside, the evening is blotted by storm clouds. The rain hasn't let up since it began the other day. I'm gasping, bending over at the waist under the roof edge. Rain dribbles a foot away. I could reach out and touch it. The yard is muddy, everything so cold. But it still feels more welcoming here, near the storm, than it does in the house at my back.

A strong hand captures my shoulder. It's Dominic. “Are you all right?”

I shake him off, spinning to face him. “Of course I'm not all right, how can I be? That's my sister, but she isn't acting like it. Goddammit, is it something in the water in this place? First you, now her. How is it possible for people to change so much?”

“Everyone changes.”

“Not everyone,” I argue desperately. “Not me. Six years of limbo, that's what you're looking at. I want the same things. I have the same goals! I used to know what she wanted, too. Now...”

He slips his hand over mine, able to cover it so that just the tips of my nails show in his huge hand. “Give her time, I'm sure she's been through a lot of things, like all of us have.”

“But why is shehere?” I squint at him, trying to see into his head. “You really didn't know she was coming tonight? Your mom, your dad, they didn't say anything about this?”

“No.” He says it too fast. It makes me think he's hiding something.

“I'm so tired of feeling like everyone is part of some big trick, and when I look away, they're all laughing behind their hands at me.”

He sets his hands on my bare shoulders. My goose bumps rise, but my core tugs me towards him. “Let's go back inside,” he says.

I start to say no. Then I see the half-open painted glass doors. Light extends from the crack, stopping just before our feet. Like the event is motioning for us to go back inside.

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