“You think Destiny’s doing that?”
“Neither one of you seems to have a clear recollection of events that night.”
I move back to the couch and sit. “How can I help her?”
“Anything you remember could be significant.”
I try to trace my steps from the time I got home until the fire, but I only get flashes. A yell. A scream. Water.
A sick feeling settles in my stomach and the ants are itching my skin again.
I was wet, and it was more than the blankets we soaked in the tub. Why was I wet?
The image I sometimes see in my nightmares of blood swirling down drain surfaces in my mind.
There was blood.
I shake my head, shaking off the ants along with the clammy feeling. “I don’t remember.”
“I’m discharging Destiny,” Mary says slowly, “but she’ll need to continue to some with outpatient therapy. I’d like to see you separately for a few weeks and then we can work into sessions with the two of you together.”
I stand, feeling the need to run again. “Why do I need to come?”
She smooths her skirt as she slowly gains her feet, then moves to her desk. “You’ve clearly both suffered a horrible trauma. Destiny’s never going to truly recover until she can face what it was.”
“I’m fine,” I say, shaking my head again. It just keeps doing that.
She pulls open a laptop on her desk and looks over the screen. “Will Mondays after school work for you?” she asks as if I said nothing.
“I have to work.”
She looks up at me. “What is your schedule? Do you have a day off?”
“Not if I can help it. We’re broke. And, also, we have no insurance, so I don’t think we can afford to see you.”
“Let’s not concern ourselves with that,” she says, shaking her hand in the air without looking up from her screen. “I could see you Saturday mornings if that’s the only day you’re available.”
“I still don’t understand how me coming here is going to help Destiny.”
“So, nine o’clock?” she says, looking at me with raised eyebrows.
And I get that she’s not taking no for an answer.
?
When I get to Destiny’s room, she’s ready to go. We take the bus down the hill to town and when she sees the security door, she looks a question at me.
“Bran,” I say as I turn the key in the lock, a little afraid to bring him up.
Her lips purse, but then she nods.
“I’ve got a box of mac and cheese that I can make for dinner, if you want,” I say on the way up the stairs.
“Okay.”
It’s the first word out of her mouth since she said hi when I walked into her hospital room, and I’m not sure if I should try to make her talk or not. There was no instruction manual for my slightly crazy sister in the discharge paperwork, so I’m flying by the seat of my pants.
“There might be an apple I can slice to go with it,” I say.
Once we’re through the door, she looks at the boxes, but doesn’t say anything.
“I only unpacked the things I needed,” I volunteer.
I wasn’t sure if we were staying or going, and I didn’t want her to come home and be upset that I’d unpacked everything.
She goes to the kitchen and starts filling our only pot with water.
“I’ll get that, Destiny,” I say, following her. “You should just rest.”
“That’s all I’ve been doing.” She sets the pot on the stove and cranks on the burner. “I’m supposed to be taking care of you.”
“I’m fine. It’s my turn to look after you for a change.”
She braces her hands on the counter without turning. “What did Mary say to you?”
My heart jumps in my chest. “She just…” I shake my head. “Nothing really.”
Finally, she turns and leans against the counter, watching my face as she says, “She wanted to know about the fire.”
It’s not a question, but I nod anyway.
“What did you tell her?”
I shake my head and drop into a kitchen chair. “When I tried to remember what happened…” I shrug. “Maybe I just hate Mom and Dad so much that I blocked it all out, but I can’t really remember much.”
I expect her typical concerned squint, but what I see in her eyes instead is relief. “You don’t have to go to that appointment, Lilah. She can’t force you to.”
“Good. She kind of creeps me out.” But even as I say it, I know that’s not entirely accurate. She didn’t creep me out as much as the loose fringes of memory I couldn’t weave into a whole tapestry.
“Good,” she repeats with a nod, turning back to the pasta. “Then it’s settled.”
While the pasta cooks, she starts unpacking the kitchen things back into the cupboards.
“So, I guess this means we’re not leaving?” I say.
She shoots me a glance. “I think I’ll see if Ambling Rose is looking for any help.”
I smile at the idea. “You should bake something and take it over when you go. Even if they’re not looking for anyone, one taste and they’ll hire you on the spot.”