Page 12 of The Secret to Belonging

and, she whispers, glancing at the basement door, he will die if we don’t help him

he’ll die or he’ll ruin his life

and we can’t take that chance.

we have to do everything we can

we have to save him, whatever it takes

they look across the kitchen table at the empty chair you occupied

they want you to tell them it’s okay and of course you forgive them and you’ll figure it out and they don’t need to worry

they’re waiting

you say

what if he dies anyway?

when you were tiny, your mother used to read you The Giving Tree every night before she tucked you in

it was her favorite story

a riddle:

what kind of love requires you to chop off your own limbs?

answer:

brotherly love

FOUR (FIRE)

you watch the sky fade

from black

to gray

to pale pink

you haven’t slept

you’re still in the same clothes

you wore yesterday

you pull on your K-Swiss and lace them up

toss your tennis bag over your shoulder

you’re gone

before the clouds

turn gold

the school is still locked and dark