The Sins That Bind Us

Grace smiled despite the lump swelling in her throat. A single tear slipped down Faith’s cheek.

“I missed you.”

That night Grace watched her sister as she slept, afraid to close her eyes. It was a beautiful nightmare, having her back. But as much as she had dreamed of this day, her mind wandered to thoughts of what Faith had experienced. Something had finally driven her back home.

The next morning the two sat awkwardly across Nana’s kitchen table. Faith ate heaping spoonfuls of Cheerios while Grace watched.

“I missed this house.” Faith dropped her spoon into the empty bowl. She leaned back as if to take it all in.

“I’m selling it,” Grace told her softly. “Nana’s care is too expensive. I can pay for a couple of years in the home for her with the profits.”

“And after that?” If she was upset over this revelation, she didn’t show it.

Grace hadn’t seen her sister like this since she was a teenager. She had been the practical one—the level-headed one—and Grace had screwed that all up by dragging her to a party. It was the mistake that made her hate herself. It was the reason she never corrected Nana when she thought she was Faith, because Faith should have been the one there. Faith was supposed to be the one they could count on, and she would have been if she’d never been given a drink.

“I’ll get a better job. I took some community college classes. I have my associates.” It was nothing to brag about in Grace’s opinion. She’d hoped to transfer to the University of Seattle but by then Nana needed full-time care. A job had been her only choice. As it turned out, three jobs were needed: part-time at a bookstore, waiting tables a few nights a week, and working at the Pacific Science Center on the weekends. It still barely paid the bills. Selling the house was the best choice and also the hardest.

Faith grabbed her hand. “I’ll get a job, too. We’ll make it work.”

They could make it work, Grace told herself. What other choice did they have? And Faith was home. Grace would make this work if it killed her. Her sister deserved a real second chance, and together they could make that happen. Maybe after a few months straight, they’d both be in school. If they split costs, it was a real possibility. And even if Grace never made it back to school, she had something more important now.

She had her sister back.



At first she thought Faith was going through withdrawal. Despite her promises to get a job, she slept odd hours. Several times a day Grace would hear her through the bathroom door. After a few weeks when it got worse instead of better, she knocked on the closed door and let herself in. Grace gathered her sister’s hair at the nape of her neck and waited for her to finish.

Faith sat back on her heels and wiped her mouth. After a few moments, she folded her shaky legs under her. “Sorry.”

“I’m just glad it’s not me.” Grace dug around in the cabinet until she found a hair tie and handed it to her. Then she sat down on the chipped, blue tile. “For when I can’t be here.”

“Look, I know I suck. I keep thinking I’ll kick this and then I’ll get my shit together.”

“It’s just withdrawal,” Grace said soothingly. “We’ve been through this before.”

And this time it’s going to stick, she added fiercely. She didn’t trust herself to say this out loud. Having Faith back still felt tenuous as if the smallest amount of pressure might scare her away. She would see her through this, because now she knew what she was dealing with.

“Not this,” Faith whispered.

“No,” Grace admitted, “because last time I fucked up. I didn’t understand. We didn’t understand. I didn’t know you were…”

She couldn’t bring herself to say addicted. It felt too harsh.

“An addict?” Faith said it for her. “A fuck-up? A loser?”

“Don’t say that!” It hurt worse to hear her say it then it had when Grace had finally admitted it to herself years ago.

“It’s the truth, sissy. And I’m cool. Trust me. I’ve been called a lot worse.” But despite her claims, Faith’s voice cracked at the edges.

She wasn’t okay with who she’d been, and Grace couldn’t blame her. It was something they both had to come to grips with someday, but that wasn’t what bothered Grace. “Who called you worse? You must not have told him about me.”

“Him, huh?” Faith raised an eyebrow and smiled weakly before she grimaced and clutched her stomach.

“You haven’t always picked winners.” Grace spoke in a flat voice afraid to betray anything. Her sister had never brought up that night with Derrick. As far as Grace could tell, she didn’t even remember what had happened. Grace hoped that she didn’t.

“Tell me about it. I’m done with all that though.”

This time Grace raised an eyebrow.

“Hard to believe I actually dated a nice guy for a bit, I know,” Faith said defensively.

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