Page 81 of The Lightkeeper

I shouldn’t have been surprised to find my sister on the other side, but I was because I’d hoped I’d get a little more time before having to do this. But clearly,the news had spread to the rest of my family about what had happened with Aurora. I knew I couldn’t keep it from them forever. But I’d hoped for a few dayswhere I could figure out what to say—how I was going to fucking survive.

“Do you have a brain injury?” Her harsh tone didn’t match the soft worry that etched her face as she barreled inside, arms waving.

I jerked. “What?”

“All this time, all those injuries, and no one ever realized you had a brain injury. I’m shocked.”

Damn, she was pissed.I shook my head.I didn’t know what to say—didn’t even have the fucking energy to growl at her that this was ridiculous. Gritting my teeth, I returned to the two open boxes I had left to fill.

I’d almost finished carefully wrapping and packing all of Aurora’s dry specimens. I would’ve finished a lot earlier this morning if I hadn’t stopped and decided to sketch them all. Not for me or for the gallery, but for her. I’d picked up the moon snail shell—the firstcarcassshe’d left for me and recalled her wish to be even just a little artistic so she could include illustrations with her paper. I couldn’t give her hardly anything she deserved, but I could give her that.

So, I’d drawn them all. Each of the thirty-two samples left in containers on the shelves. And that was why, after hours of being back at the lighthouse, I’d only packed about a third of them.

“Why did you let her leave?” My sister followed me.

Jesus.

“I didn’tlether do anything because she’s an adult who can make her own decisions about her own life,” I said, stacking textbook after textbook into the box. “A life that she was going back to in the city at some point anyway.”

I grabbed another container off the shelf.

“And how can she make the right decision without all the information?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Did you tell her you love her?”

Did I—love her—“What?” I choked and shook my head. “Enough, Frankie.”

“Why didn’t you tell her?”

I traced my finger along Aurora’s handwriting on the label. So smooth and sure, so certain. Unlike me. I tucked it into a wad of bubble wrap and set it in the box. One after another. Stacked and ready to go back to the woman who understood them.

I wish I could pack myself in the box. I wish I could go back to the one person who understood me.

“It doesn’t matter.”

I heard Frankie roam around me, frustration oozing from every step.“Seriously, Kit? Why are you doing this?” Her anger broke in the sharp grip of sadness.

“Get a grip, Frankie,” I swore and spun, everything inside me burning. “What was I supposed to do? Force her to stay? Kidnap her? Her dad is sick. Her semester is almost over.She had to go home—she was never meant to stay.”

“But you could’ve?—”

“No, I couldn’t have gone back there,” I said angrily, hating myself for every weak word—hating myself for not being healed. “I couldn’t have gone with her to Boston, I’m sorry. I know you want me to be strong. I know you want to see me as some hero—someone who survived war and a gunshot wound to the head and the Boston Marathon bombing?—”

Instantly, her anger dropped. “I don’twantto see you as a hero, Kit. Youarea hero. My hero.”

“But I’m not.” The words pushed out like a bullet from my chest, fired from the very deepest part of my pain. “All I did was survive, Frankie, and some would argue even that is questionable.” I motioned around me to the lighthouse—to my life.

She strode up to me, angling her head and glaring at me.

“You’re not my hero because you survived the impossible, Kit. You’re my hero because no matter how bad things were, how bad the pain was, how hard the healing was, how much you wanted to give up, you kept fighting for everyone else around you.”

“Frankie…”

“You know what I heard when you were in the hospital?” The fury in her eyes sharpened with pain. “Your doctor pulled Jamie out of the room to talk to him while the rest of us stayed by your bed. When they were done, Jamie insisted we should all get something to eat while they prepped you for surgery. Jamie said that was what the doctor wanted—to explain the surgery to him. What they were going to do. And Jamie didn’t want us to hear.”

My brow creased. Why hadn’t I heard this before?

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