Laura stared vacantly at the walls, at the ceiling - anywhere - but me. Never at me. I felt like I’d lost her all over again, in an entirely different way. I didn’t know if I could pull her back this time. I didn’t know if my sister’s nightmare was ending or beginning. Whoever had pointed their finger at Laura and decided to throw all and sundry at her, decided she hadn’t already been through more than her fair share, was a mean old bastard. Why heap more hurt on her? To what end? I was angry, so very angry for her, the only person to blame; dead.

I knew, I knew things hadn’t been right. As soon as Lucca had called, my blood had run cold. I’d already had my coat and shoes on by the time Ryder was calling his friend back. My legs wouldn’t carry me fast enough as I ran; the air stolen from my lungs long before I’d picked up my pace. When I’d seen the smoke coming from Laura’s house, I’d thought someone was playing a cruel joke on us. Just a few short days before, life had been good. Now, broken pieces scattered everywhere. We were a clip from a bad movie with no happy ending in sight.

The photographs that appeared in my email the morning after compounded the horror story we seemed to perpetually live in.

I needed Laura, she needed me, it was all that mattered for now. The rest of the shit that had fallen on my lap the day after the fire, could wait. Ryder could wait. Dealing with it all could fucking wait. I couldn’t bring myself to care enough about it.

Looking over at Laura, she was sleeping, still. Her breaths were shallow, her face relaxed. The nurse Laura had been blessed with assured me there’d been no nightmares, a small mercy given the situation. Was that good or bad? She wasn’t showing any emotion at all and to me, that didn’t sit right. She hadn’t talked about the fire. Not to me, not to Lucca, not to the police. She hadn’t talked at all. When she was ready, she would, but right now her silence was cutting too deep. For the first time in her life, she wasn’t confiding in me and I was taking it badly.

“You good, kiddo?” Our dad asked as he entered the room. Walking to Laura, he leaned over the side of the bed and swiped a kiss across her head. “We can take her home soon. There are some conditions though.”

“She needs to eat and talk.” I surmised.

“Yes, that needs to happen first.”

He sat down in the chair next to me, lifting my hand and kissing my fingers. I warmed at his affection. Our father loved us, had always shown us physically, shown us how loved and special we were. He made up for our mother’s lack of attention with his hugs and kisses. I didn’t doubt she loved us too, but she wasn’t affectionate, never had been. Our relationship was different than the one we shared with my dad. He picked us up every single time one of us fell and he was still doing it. I didn’t know where we’d be without him.

“Where’s mum?”

“She’ll come back later, went to sort a few things.”

Our mother couldn’t handle seeing Laura this way. She’d seen it before and it broke her, she wasn’t as strong as our father and she had no desire to see the aftermath again. My mother wouldn’t come back, not out of meanness, more her own self-preservation.

“Thank you, dad.”

“You never have to thank me, Taylor. I’d do anything for you girls, your mother too. Lord knows some fucker decided you both drew the short straw in life. I’m not okay with that.” He stared fixedly at me, his eyes full of resolve. “Every time...every time, I will pick you all back up if I can. You’re both great girls, this shouldn’t be the way you live your lives.” I tried to smile at him, the curve of my lips feeling all wrong on my face. “Have you spoken to him yet?”

He knew my struggle with Ryder, I’d required a confidant and there was no better than my father. In a moment of weakness, I’d laid it all at his feet, shown him the emails I’d received, then slapped him with a whopper. I had decisions to make even if I didn’t know how to make the right ones. I looked at Laura again, sadness taking hold.

“No, not yet.”

“Taylor,” he eyed me, “you need to talk to the man.”

He was right, always right, there was no forever and a day with this one. How did you talk to someone you could barely look at? Sadness gave way to guilt. “I know.”

“This one doesn’t go away.” There was so much truth in his words, I gulped at the meaning.

“No, it doesn’t.”

“That man worships the ground you walk on, I’ve seen it with my own eyes. The same way Lucca does Laura. He deserves some answers.”

I gazed over to the bed at the mention of my sister’s name and startled at the warm, brown eyes regarding me intently. Her face was pallid but for the green and purple bruises marring her face. What had been done to her was a sin. Tears welled in my eyes again, I couldn’t seem to keep them at bay.

“I’m not going home with you, Taylor.”

Her croaky voice startled me far less than her words. I gaped, not understanding her reasoning. Standing, I approached the bedside, unsure of myself, unsure of Laura. She reached out her bandaged hand and I took it in mine, missing the supple skin of her palm. I was careful not to squeeze. She held strong, like she always did, but there was defiance there too. I admired this woman’s strength more than anything in the world. Laura was one in a million and I was lucky to call her my friend as well as my sister.

“I love you.” Her eyes filled with tears and she ducked her head. “But I’m not going home with you.”