Epilogue
EPILOGUE
Beneath the melting snow, seedlings sprout up from the ground beside Solina’s grave. Small buds that’ll blossom into something beautiful once I’m gone. I won’t be around to see them, but it’s comforting to know they’ll be here.
I run the rag I brought with me along the bottom of the headstone, wiping off grass clippings and flecks of dirt until the engraving gleams in the afternoon sun.
SOLINA GRACE FLORES
Just because the sun has set doesn’t mean it’ll be dark forever.
I’d thought Tiffany was full of shit when she first came up with that for the engraving. Then, it was impossible to imagine a world without Solina that wasn’t defined by darkness. I didn’t realize that, in my world, the sun rose and set with her until she was gone and I was left to find a path home in the dark.
But Tiffany was right, like she always is. I wasn’t alone in the dark. I had others to help light the way—her, Dede. The family we carved out for ourselves in this shitty little roadside town we call home.
The grass is damp, slick with dew and the rain from last night’s storm, but I sit down anyway. Cross-legged and leaning against the headstone like it’s Solina’s shoulder, like we’re sitting in front of the TV again. Complaining about the shitty connection or arguing about what to watch or dreaming about the day we could afford Netflix.
“I’m sorry I haven’t come to visit yet,” I say out loud.
I’d worried it would feel awkward, talking to a slab of marble and pretending it’s someone who’s never coming back. But it feels just as natural as it did on the couch, like I’m picking up where we left off. For once, I’m grateful that Luster isn’t a place for sentimentality. The cemetery is on the smaller side. People who die here must be sent off to rest somewhere else, and if I could’ve, I would’ve done the same for her. No one wants to rest forever in a place like this. The headstones are decently maintained, but there are no balloons or roses at their feet. No mourners stopping by to say hello to someone they lost. It’s just us—me, Solina, and my whispers on the wind.
“I didn’t think I could handle seeing you here. But it’s not so bad. You’ve pretty much got the whole place to yourself.” I let out a humorless laugh. “I miss you. A lot. So much it hurts. I don’t believe in much, but I’d like to think you’re somewhere good. Wearing those awful bell-bottoms you were obsessed with, and eating crust-less peanut butter sandwiches every single day.”
My heart feels lighter imagining her somewhere beyond the bubblegum-pink sunset, wearing a cocky grin as she watches me finally say all the things I couldn’t a month ago.
“We’re leaving Luster today, but don’t think we’re leaving you. If I could, I’d bring you with us, but I’m pretty sure that would get me arrested.” My smile is genuine this time, the muscles aching as if from a lack of use. “We just … need a change.”
When I close my eyes, I can feel the warmth of the sun on my skin. A taste of what’s waiting for me and Tiffany in the cramped two-bedroom apartment we found in a town an hour outside of Los Angeles. We needed more than just a change. Ever since I came home with my split lip and soot-covered jacket, we both knew we’d need to leave. I was hesitant to look into what happened to Hunter. When I closed that door behind me, I turned my back on Kingswood for good, but Tiffany did the work for me.
An article in the local paper declared the fire the biggest tragedy to hit the campus since a chemical explosion in one of the science labs during the eighties. As if one of their students hadn’t died by suicide just earlier this year.
Hunter made it out of the fire after all, but not unscathed. From what Tiffany’s found online, he’s in a medically induced coma while he heals from the third-degree burns. Chances are he’ll pull through, and give his side of the story once he does. Soon enough Cartagena will come knocking on our door, wondering why a dead girl is being accused of attempted murder. Leaving might not solve everything, but it’s sure as hell better than staying put.
There was one piece of Kingswood I went looking for after I left that morning, though. A few days after the recital, the full performance was uploaded to the music department’s socials. I’d scrubbed through the two-hour-long video until I found her, thirty minutes in. Claudia’s makeup was smudged and her dress wrinkled, but you’d never know it because the world faded away the second she sat down at her cello. For seven minutes and fourteen seconds, she commanded the room in a way that left me breathless even through a computer screen. I’d only been able to watch it once, despite the urge to play it on a loop and watch the way her eyes slid closed as she gave herself over to the music again and again and again.
It’s a fitting goodbye. Watching her do what she risked everything for.
“We finally found a place in California. Not near the beach like Tiffany always wanted, but maybe we’ll get there eventually. We’ll make the drive down on weekends. I’ll touch the ocean, like we always said we would.” I inhale sharply, watching my breath come out in wispy tendrils. “I’ll do all of it, for you. All those things we said we’d do someday.”
I’m still not sure what I want out of life. Whether I want to try school again or wait tables until my joints give up on me. But for now, curiosity is enough. The wanting to want. Something I don’t think I’ve felt since Mami kissed us goodbye and I gave up on dreaming and praying for things to change. I’ll never be the kid I was when she was alive, before all the shit that defines who we are now tore us apart. But I changed once, when we left the foster home and came here looking for something better. I think I have it in me to change again.
“I’m sorry too,” I add, closing my eyes this time. “For not listening to you when you said you wanted to leave. If I had …”
I don’t finish that thought. I’ve wasted enough of my time wishing I’d done things differently, especially now, with the truth laid bare. “I’ll do better.”
I’ll never be able to have another conversation with Solina, but I can carry the memory of her with me instead. The real Solina—not the one I’d constructed to fit what I wanted out of our future. My sister, who could light up a room with her smile. My sister, who was so brilliant she almost landed the most prestigious fellowship at a school for kids who are handed the world. My sister, who lied and cheated to stay afloat, the same way I did. My sister, who faced a monster and was brave enough to fight back.
My sister, who always found me in the dark.
I hoist myself back up, brushing grass and dirt off my jeans before tilting my head up to the sky.
“Say hi to Mami for me?”
The wind responds with a howl, whipping my hair up toward the clouds. I don’t believe in signs, but these days I’m willing to make exceptions.
I smile as I hold my arms up into the air, letting the breeze travel through my fingers, and imagine it’s Solina, taking my hand one last time.
I walk along the edge of the Luster roads toward my last goodbye. Along the way, I stop at a mailbox and pull a manila envelope out of my pocket, Izzy’s name and address scrawled across the front. I bite my lip, wondering for the hundredth time if this is the right thing to do. Taking the flash drive to Cartagena myself isn’t an option, not when it could raise questions about how I got it in the first place. It was risky enough sending Charlisa the clip of Gabe dealing to Claudia. Tiffany had made sure the burner email we sent it from was secure, and I’d cropped the video just enough to keep Claudia out of the frame. But I’ve still been half expecting her or Gabe to come knocking on my door any day now.
It was worth it, though. Making sure the fellowship doesn’t go to someone like him. There’s no telling who they’ll give it to now, with their top contenders out of the race, but I can hold on to the hope that it’ll go to someone who deserves it.
Sending the rest of the drive to Charlisa wasn’t my choice to make. Not when it might force all those unnamed girls to come forward. Or to find out about a crime they might not have even known was committed against them. Izzy came forward, just to be called a troublemaker. Mailing her the proof she needed doesn’t change how they decided her story should end, but it’s the only thing that feels right. Give the power back to someone he hurt.
Maybe now she can rewrite that ending, if she wants to.
I take a deep breath and push the envelope through the slot, watching it disappear from view before walking away. As promised, Tiffany is waiting outside the diner, leaning against the hood of her car. She doesn’t notice me at first, too busy dotting at the corners of her eyes with a balled-up napkin. Her Visitor sticker from the prison is still stuck to the hip of her sweatpants. She had her own goodbyes she needed to make before we left.
“How’d it go?” I ask, the sound of my voice almost startling her out of her sneakers.
“Jesus,” she mutters, holding a hand to her chest. “You can’t just go sneaking up on me in the wild like that.”
I shrug in apology and lean beside her.
“It went … better than expected,” she answers hesitantly, her eyes fixed on her fresh French manicure. “He was disappointed, obviously. But understanding.” She sniffs, wiping her nose with the back of her hand. Her voice cracks when she speaks up again. “He was happy for us. Said it was about time we got the hell out of here. And that I should’ve left years ago.” She chokes out a watery laugh, a tear rolling down her cheek, leaving a streak in her foundation.
“He’s right,” Dede calls out from the back door leading to the kitchen, making his way over to us. “Been tellin’ you since he got locked up that you should’ve hauled ass out of here.”
Tiffany rolls her eyes and slaps Dede lightly on the chest. “You’re just dying to get rid of me.”
“You got me.” He holds up his hands in surrender. “But once you’re gone, who’s gonna remind me to tuck in my shirts?”
Tiffany lets out one of her loud, obnoxious cackles, earning us a few weird looks from a couple getting out of their car. “Find yourself a wife, all right, big boy?” Tiffany says with a wink. “One who isn’t gonna steal your credit card and move to Costa Rica this time, though.”
Dede groans, rubbing the back of his neck. “Why don’t you go on and get outta here so you can stop holding that one over my head.”
“Oh, don’t worry,” Tiffany purrs. “I’ll be holding this one over your head all the way from the Golden State.”
“Great,” he mutters dryly.
Gotta admit, I’ll miss their banter. And I’m sure they will too. Tiffany could find a way to heckle a brick wall, but there’s something special about the way they’re able to get under each other’s skin—the way only family can.
With his and Tiffany’s goodbyes wrapped up, Dede holds out a brown paper bag toward me. “One last snack for the road.”
I don’t need to open the bag to know what’s in it, but I do anyway. Two peanut butter sandwiches, crusts cut off, wrapped in wax paper.
My body says what my voice can’t. I set the food on the hood of the car before pulling him in for a hug, squeezing him so tight it knocks the wind out of him.
“Whoa, whoa,” he warns with a chuckle, steadying himself before wrapping his arms around me too. “Can’t be giving me a heart attack right before you leave.”
I don’t say anything, and neither does he. We just bask in the warmth of each other, in the smell of that shitty cologne and the oil from the fryers. I wonder if anything will ever smell like home the way he does.
“Stay safe, okay?” he whispers against my hair, his voice somber the way Tiffany’s had been earlier. Behind us, I can hear her start to sniffle again.
“Ah, bring it in,” Dede teases before dragging Tiffany into the embrace, the three of us holding on to each other so tight I’m not sure we’ll ever let go.
When we do, our cheeks are damp and our hearts are aching, but we all put on brave faces, smiling at each other like this isn’t the end of the most comfortable thing we’ve ever known. Life here was never easy for any of us, but having each other made it worthwhile. I’m not sure I’ll ever see Dede again. For all we know, Cartagena could be on his way over now, and I’ll never make it out of here. But I’ve learned that you don’t need someone next to you to carry them in your heart.
“Don’t have too much fun without me,” Dede says with a watery laugh, his FAITH tattoo waving goodbye to me as he wipes his cheeks.
“We’ll do our best,” Tiffany replies before heading to the driver’s seat.
I take my time getting into the car, giving Dede another hug before taking in the diner one last time. In another life, I’d be getting ready for my closing shift and ignoring texts from Solina while I refill the sugar packets. It’d be easy to lose myself to those could-be lives. Ones where Mami never gets sick, or Papi never relapses, or I stop Solina before she can walk out the door. But I’m done living in the could-be s. I’m ready to explore the what-if s.
“C’mon, grumpy,” Tiffany calls out from behind the wheel, pulling her favorite sunglasses from the glove compartment. “By the time we make it out there, I’m gonna be in my forties.”
I stifle a laugh as she gags at the thought. Dede says something about how being forty isn’t so bad while I pack up my things and get into the passenger seat. We roll up our windows and pull out of the lot, lingering at the stop sign leading onto the main road out of town.
“You ready?” Tiffany asks, peering over at me.
In truth, no. You’re never ready to leave the life you know behind. Still, I nod and relax in my seat as Tiffany steps on the gas and the car goes flying down a road I’ve only ever seen other people travel. Glimpses of the world I’ve known for the past four years go whizzing past my window. It’s bittersweet, watching it all melt away in flashes so brief they’re already fading from my memory. I roll the window down, leaning my head against the ledge so I can look up at the sky. On the horizon, the crest of the moon peeks out from behind a cloud. I watch it grow bigger and bigger as we drive farther and farther, until the cloud finally starts to fade.
All that’s left is the sun and the moon, sharing the same sky.