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“Can we go back to Alliance?”
I walk into the kitchen, expecting to see a majority of the kitchen packed up, but I’m welcomed by Mimi sitting on the floor with papers sprawled across the hardwood flooring.
My sister doesn’t even notice my approach as she grabs two pieces of paper on opposite sides of the mess and stares at them intensely.
I haven’t seen Ella or Leon yet this morning.
I’ve been focused on packing up my old room with any sort of hope more letters would show up.
Maybe I should give up. I found two of them and had a breakdown both times. It might be better to bury this place and move on for my peace of mind.
I frown as images of Oliver flash in my head. Burying Alliance means burying him, and that thought feels like glass circulating through my veins.
What’s worse is now that’s not the only thing that comes to mind. I also envision the clear sky above the pier and the passionate artists honing their craft at the market. I might miss those parts of this town also.
I’ll miss the beach, too, even though being in the water causes more anxiety than I like to handle.
“Mimi, what are you doing?” I look down at her again.
Without breaking her gaze on the papers, she answers, “I didn’t like the way I was handling parts of my manuscript.”
“So, you messed up the order?” I cock a brow.
“No.” She lets out a laugh like what I said was stupid. “I have everything in a specific place so I can look at each part of the story and really visualize what I’m writing.”
A question I shouldn’t ask pops into my head. “Do you plan on writing sex into your stories?”
Mimi’s head snaps toward me with her cheeks now flush. “Probably,” she whispers half-heartedly.
I bite the inside of my cheek. “I mean, if you need info, I know our sex education wasn’t great, but you have some pretty sexually active sisters.” I’m mostly thinking of myself and Lotte.
“What?!” she exclaims. Her face turns completely red. “I’ve been doing research.”
I tilt my head. “Research?”
“I’m not talking about this with you anymore.” She turns her back to me, but I can see the red creeping up her neck.
“I’m just joking with you, sis.” I get up, walking over to the kitchen boxes. “Don’t forget, I’m always here to read anything you write.”
“You don’t even like reading,” she huffs.
“True, but I’ll read it for you. I might not be a reader, but I still have too many opinions.”
I notice her quick glance toward me. “You’d read it?”
“I’d read the shit out of it.”
“I forgive you.” We smile at each other before she turns back to her pages, placing one down and picking up another.
I turn toward the sink, looking into one of the boxes filled with plates and bowls. We’ll probably just sell all of this along with any other belongings. Everything in this house is mine, so I can destroy or sell whatever I want.
I go to turn the faucet on, but nothing comes out. I furrow my brows. The water should be on. I decided to use the money I got from my inheritance to pay for the utilities we’d need while here.
I sink down to the floor, opening up the bottom cabinet. My eyes survey the compartment. Nothing seems out of the ordinary, but fear nips the back of my neck.
“You wouldn’t happen to know how to fix a faucet, would you?” I ask into the universe.
“I happen to know a thing or two.” The hairs on the back of my neck stick up as a familiar voice sings in my ear—the same voice I’ve been avoiding since this weekend when we went on a little overnight adventure.
