Epilogue #2
Valencia shrugs. “They won’t unless they dig. And it’s not like the island is big enough for real estate development. Besides,
climate change will have this all underwater in a few years’ time.”
She reaches into her backpack and takes out the urn with Marcus’s ashes. Then she unscrews the top and slowly pours them next
to Nate’s body.
Now she starts to cry—silent, almost dignified tears. I crouch down next to her and she lets me hug her. My mom. My brother.
My dad.
“What do you think about selling the house?”
I turn away from loading the dishwasher to look at Valencia.
We finished dinner and were cleaning the dishes when she got quiet.
I glance back at Gramma Sharon, who sits at the kitchen island playing solitaire.
She gives me an I’m staying out of this look.
So I reach for the plate in Valencia’s hand and shrug, because I honestly don’t feel like I can make that decision.
This was never my house. It’s always been hers. And Marcus’s, and Easton’s, and Nate’s. Yes, I’m part of the family now, but
I wasn’t when they spent the majority of their lives here.
“If you want to.”
“I don’t know.” She continues rinsing our forks and knives. “It felt a little big when Easton went to school and it was Marcus
and me. We talked about it, but decided to stick around and see how we felt once he was done with college. We built the boathouse
thinking it would be a nice investment to help us stand out in the market. Then when you came into our lives, we never really
got the chance to talk about it again.”
She’s been doing that more. Acknowledging that I’m not the real Nate when it’s just the family. Unfortunately my kidnapping
case is still open, but with Miles’s help, I’ve been telling Dr. Zapata a story about a woman kidnapping me and telling me
I was her nephew. We used the gas station video as evidence, and said that eight months before I was arrested, she finally
told me the truth and I ran away. But I don’t know the address or her real name.
Miles said the cops and Dr. Z will probably think I’m trying to protect the woman because I still feel a familial connection
to her. And since it’s not a child abduction ring, they’ll let the case remain open. They might come back every once in a
while, but they haven’t so far. They have plenty of open cases to focus on where the kids haven’t come home.
Is it weird that I kind of appreciate how Valencia makes sure I know she sees the real me? She was lying to herself before because she wanted her son back. Now that she knows both her real children are dead, she wants me to understand she knows who I really am, and that she still loves me.
That she tells me all the time.
Something I really appreciate. And I love her, too. She’s the polar opposite of my parents, who seemed to never want to have kids; it was like
they were stuck with me.
Valencia was never stuck with me; she chose me.
“Well, what are your thoughts now?” I ask her, closing the dishwasher and grabbing a towel to dry my hands.
“Sell the damn thing.” I turn to look at Gramma Sharon. Her mouth has healed pretty well since the glass incident, and she’s
moved on to soft foods.
Valencia chuckles and takes the towel from me as she looks around the kitchen. The crime scene cleanup crew took care of everything
quickly once we were allowed to let them in. And now it doesn’t look like a dead guy had been lying five feet from where we’re
standing.
“I’m not sure. I mean, you’re going off to college in a couple years, right? Do you want to go to college?”
“College is expensive,” Gramma Sharon says. “You can sell this place and buy a smaller one—maybe over in my neighborhood!
Then put the rest in a savings account for school.”
We didn’t need money. Easton’s life insurance paid for Nate’s, which we did have to pay back. And Marcus’s now sits in an
investment account that Valencia said I could have when I turn eighteen.
But going to college, I’m not sure about. “Before, I wanted to go, because I knew it was the only way I could be myself.” I remember what I told Miles. I do want to help kids like me in the future, and that requires plenty of expensive schooling for not a lot of pay.
Valencia smirks and leans on the island. “It might still be, Nate.”
I laugh. “No, I think I’m through reinventing myself. As long as you’re good with calling me Nate, I’m good with being Nate.”
She reaches out and rubs my shoulder. “I’m good with that. Well, we don’t have to decide now—”
“Sell it!” Gramma Sharon says again, looking up from her cards. “Am I invisible?”
“No, Mom, we just don’t trust your opinions.”
She scoffs at us and goes back to her game. Then Valencia turns back to me. “But maybe we’ll think about it.”
The thing about Valencia is that she means it. My bio parents never would have asked my opinion on something so big and life-changing.
Valencia cares about my thoughts and feelings the way she cared about Easton’s. And Nate’s, of course.
We’re a family, and for the first time since I can’t even remember, I feel loved. Real love. Valencia still loved Easton despite
everything he did—and knowing the truth might make that harder for her, but she still does. It’s something she’d never admit
aloud to anyone, but I believe it. And that’s how I know she’ll always love me, too. It doesn’t matter who I am or who I love
or what I believe.
This is what my life should have been. It’s what everyone’s life should be.