Page 6 of Stolen Fate

I looked out into the vast space that surrounded our land. I could imagine raising my kids here. Unlike my siblings, who viewed our house as nothing more than a place to sleep at night, I loved it. I couldn’t even entertain the thought of moving away, not when I couldn’t bear to leave it for more than a week.

Besides, Massachusetts was expensive, and living on my own when my work had so far consisted of nothing more than short freelance jobs wasn’t practical.

I had gotten my degree in childhood education. A great degree if you wanted to teach children, which was what I had planned on doing until I realized I didn’t like it.

You needed to have a certain personality for it, and even though I loved children and had planned on having some one day, I didn’t want to take care of thirty children for almost no pay and deal with entitled parents, too.

I lasted a year at a school before I called it quits, and now I was…well, I was still so lost.

I let out a sigh and walked back to the house. Despite the nice day, I didn’t have time to spend smelling the roses. With Mom gone and Dad’s disability what it was, the responsibility of keeping the house had been placed on my shoulders.

And what a heavy burden that was.

If I wasn’t paying bills, I was budgeting, and if not that, then I was doing work around the house or going grocery shopping.

There was just so much to do and so little time to do it.

Instead of going inside when I got home, I got into my car and went grocery shopping. We lived in Swampscott, Massachusetts, about 12 miles from Boston, and with a population of a little over 13,000 people, it was small enough to not be overwhelming, yet big enough that you didn’t necessarily know your neighbors, so everyone could mind their own business.

I liked that I could drive to Boston whenever I needed—and I did that often, especially when I needed to get away.

My parents met when they were students at Boston University, and they moved to Swampscott soon after graduation to start a family away from their families.

It was the perfect place to live, and I still couldn’t get over the scenery on my way into the city, despite having grown up here.

We didn’t even live that close to the beach, yet I could smell the ocean every time I stepped foot outside. I could feel the moisture on my skin, especially during the summer, when the humidity could become almost unbearable.

I loved my town, and I never wanted to leave. My family was here; my small, very insignificant life was here; and though I knew Emilia wanted to leave the first chance she got, and Ethan would have left had he had the means to do so, it was different for them. I had always felt like somewhat of a black sheep in my own family, since I had two siblings who were so similar to each other in both manners and looks.

I was just pulling into the local grocery store when I caught sight of Liam, the store’s manager and my brother’s best friend, running toward my car. He got to me before I could even unbuckle my seatbelt.

I rolled my eyes and motioned for him to move back so I could open the door.

“Hey, Liam. Excited to see me?” I asked, a little amused. We barely got along on a regular day. Liam was…let’s say…as unmotivated as my brother was.

Their friendship hindered each other more than it helped.

“Evelyn, do you know what Ethan has been up to this past week?”

“No, what has he been up to?” I asked casually, even if I was getting curious. I hadn’t seen my brother in three days, and I hadn’t been worried. He tended to leave at the most random times, only coming back home when he ran out of money or when he got bored or tired.

I was a bit worried now, though, because if Liam was concerned, then something must have been really, really wrong.

I turned off my ignition and got out. “Is he here?”

Liam nodded. I didn’t wait for him to say more. I walked quickly to the back of the store where there was a small apartment building that housed six apartments that the owner leased out to some of his employees. Liam lived there with his girlfriend, Katie, and I knew my brother sometimes crashed there when he didn’t want to come home.

“Fuck,” I said under my breath when I got to the front of the building.

Ethan was in an argument with another man.

I recognized the man Ethan was arguing with right away. It was Henry Cale. He had been my brother’s friend in high school, both his and Liam’s, actually, though Henry was the only one who ever did anything with his life. He went to college and had gotten a degree in finance. He’d since worked for his dad, dealing mostly in mortgage loans.

Henry was trying to shove some document in Ethan’s face, and my brother, scowling, kept pushing whatever it was away. The papers—held together by a staple, and looked like they were moments away from falling apart—fell to the ground in a silent heap by the two men as they continued to yell loudly over each other. I couldn’t make out what they were saying—not with how loud they were.

I walked over to the document and picked it up, flipping through the pages and quickly reading through them. It never crossed my mind that I should have minded my own business, because if my brother was involved, then the problem would quickly become mine, whether I wanted it or not.

And when I got to the third page, all the blood drained from my face.

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