Chapter Three
Twenty Years Prior
“DADDY!!!!” I hear screaming from the top floor of the house.
I turn up the volume on my iPad because you can hear Halle from any room in the house.
“Can I come, can I come, can I come?” She bounds down the stairs, and I frown, wondering where they’re going.
I want to go too. I peek my head up over the couch to see my stepfather picking up my stepsister just as she makes it to the bottom and carries her to sit on the counter in the kitchen.
“I’m just going to the store. You sure you want to go, Princess? Sara said you guys are going to the park in a bit,” he says, talking about my mom as he puts her shoes on and begins to tie them.
“I can go when I get back! Daddy, please.” She puts her hands under her chin like she’s saying her nightly prayers and squeezes her eyes shut. “I want a popsicle!”
“Okay, come on.” He tightens both of her pigtails and presses a kiss to her nose.
She looks over at me and smiles. “Wild, you want to come too?” She always calls me by my last name because when we met, Sebastian was too hard for her to say, and it just stuck. I like it, and I like that she has a nickname for me.
I nod and hop off the couch because I want to go most places with my stepdad.
He’s around more than my dad is. He taught me to play catch and ride a bike, and even coaches my baseball team.
We are pretty bad, but he cheers us on like we’re winners.
He married my mom when I was four, or maybe three, I don’t remember, but I know, and my mom has been living here with him and Halle for a while now.
Halle’s okay for a girl. She’s always ready to build a fort or go exploring in the creek behind the house, even after her dad told us not to, and she didn’t rat me out the time she fell in and got hurt.
She shares the TV and lets me watch my shows on the big TV even when it’s her night to pick.
As far as sisters go, she’s pretty cool, and I like hanging out with her even though she’s only four.
I grab my shoes and hear my mom calling for me to take a jacket even though it’s still warm out.
I run upstairs, knowing my stepdad and Halle are waiting, before running back down and hopping in the car, buckling my car seat, and looking over to make sure Halle is strapped in like I always do.
She’s holding one of her Barbies in her hand, talking to it like they’re having a conversation, and I turn my eyes back to my iPad.
“Bud, why’d you bring that? You know you get car sick.
” My stepdad looks at me in the rearview mirror, and he’s right, but I’m almost at the end of the episode.
Just as we go around the corner, my eyes start to feel funny, my tummy turns, and instantly, I feel sick.
I turn off my iPad and let out a breath.
“Wild’s tummy hurts!” I hear Halle say, and then a tiny hand wraps around mine.
“Shh. I’m fine.” I take a breath and hear a chuckle from the front seat.
“That was some sort of record,” my stepdad says as he passes me a small bag of goldfish, and I eat a few of them, my stomach already settling with the salty crackers.
“Gimme!” Halle says, and I see her hand opening and closing next to me.
“Please, Halle Grace,” he says. My stepfather is big on manners and constantly reminds us to say “please” and “thank you.”
“Gimme please!” she says, shaking her hand a little more. I put some in her hand, and she looks over at me and blows me a kiss. “Thank you!”
“Good girl,” my stepfather says.
It isn’t long before we’re out of the car, and I take a few deep breaths, feeling better now that we are no longer moving.
My stepdad kneels in front of me. “You okay?”
Halle stands next to him, holding his hand and pushing her hair out of her face before she puts her heart-shaped pink sunglasses on. My mom calls her a little diva, whatever that is, but I think it means she’s just cute and girly. At least that’s what I think of her.
“I’m better now.”
“What color popsicle do you want?” Halle asks, and I think she’s trying to get my mind off wanting to puke only minutes ago.
“Red.”
“Me too!” She hops up and down and grabs my hand with the one not holding her father’s.
We aren’t in the small store for more than five minutes before we’re checking out, and Halle looks up at her dad. “You think Sara will want one?” She looks at me, and I shrug.
“I’ll get her one too!” she says as she takes off toward the back of the store.
“Halle Grace!” My stepfather groans and looks at me. “Go with her.” He nods, and I take off behind her.
I see her standing on her tiptoes, trying to reach the popsicles, and take a moment to laugh at her. She looks at me and stomps her foot with a huff. “Help me!”
I reach up and grab it and hand it to her, and she beams up at me. “Thanks, Wild! Your mommy will be so happy.” I always wonder why she says “your mommy” and calls her Sara when I say “our dad” and call him Dad.
We are walking back to the front when something feels off. I don’t know what it is, but I feel sick, almost like in the car, but instead of my stomach, it’s my whole body. I pull Halle back, unsure of what’s happening but feeling like I should probably be standing in front of her just in case.
“Wha—” she asks just as a loud boom rings through the air.
Her eyes widen, and she lets out a shriek.
She drops the popsicle and presses her hands over her ears just as there’s another boom.
And another. Her eyes are wide and scared, and before I can stop her, I see Halle take off toward the front of the store.
I’m right behind her, and when we turn a corner, we see a man holding a gun toward our dad, and then there’s another boom.
Except I don’t hear it. I only know it happens because I watch him go down.
“Da—” she starts, but I put a hand over her mouth and pull her into my chest, trying to pull her away from what’s happening.
I can hear and feel her screaming against my hand, so I pull her out of my chest and look into her eyes.
“Shhh.” I put a finger against my lips and whisper so quietly, I hope she hears me.
I can barely hear anything over the pounding of my own heart.
“Don’t scream.” I shake my head at her. The tears are leaking out of her eyes, but she nods her head.
I keep my hand tightly over her mouth and peek my eyes around the corner.
I watch as a man in a mask pulls the watch off my dad’s wrist that my mom gave him for Christmas.
Tears burn my eyes seeing my dad lying on the ground, not moving, but knowing I have to keep Halle safe until the bad guy leaves.
I pull us both out of sight until I hear the bell ding of the door opening and closing.
Halle stays quiet, and when I peek around the corner again, I don’t see anyone.
“Close your eyes,” I tell her. Part of me wants to leave her here, but I also don’t want to leave her alone. She holds my hand tight and closes her eyes as she follows me toward where Dad is, and I watch as the tears still fall down her face like she already knows something bad has happened.
I gasp when I get to the scene because it’s not just my dad on the floor.
There’s another man and a woman, both on the ground, surrounded by blood.
I’m frozen in the spot, but I force myself to because we have to call for help, and I know how to call 911.
I go to move toward the counter, but I don’t feel Halle coming when I tug on her hand, and when I turn around, her eyes are wide open, and she’s staring down at her father’s lifeless body.
Then…she loses it.
“DADDY!!” she screams at the top of her lungs and drops to her knees, crying for him to wake up. She does this all through my call to 911, and when the police arrive shortly after, she’s still wailing and begging for him to wake up.
I don’t even remember what happens next.
Everything is a blur. I remember crying—a lot of crying.
Halle is what I heard someone call hysterical.
Nothing anyone says can calm her down. We talk to the police because we were the only people in the store, and we watch as they load Dad and the other man and woman into the ambulance in black bags with their faces covered.
Halle screams Daddy over and over again, and then my mom shows up, and she’s hysterical now, too.
We’re both in her arms, and even while all of this happened, Halle still hasn’t let go of my hand.
She doesn’t let go on the way to the hospital, or when we talk to a lady who tells us it’s okay to let out however we’re feeling, and that she would be in touch with Mom next week about something called “therapy,” whatever that is.
She didn’t let go of my hand on the way home or that whole night.
We both slept in the bed with my mom, Halle’s tiny body between us.
I didn’t sleep a wink, and I don’t think my mom did either, but Halle slept with one hand wrapped in mine and one wrapped around a teddy bear that was a gift from Dad on her last birthday.
She’d cried herself to sleep, muttering something about Daddy and coming home.
This went on for days until one night, after Halle drifted off to sleep, I heard my mother’s quiet voice. “She hasn’t talked very much. Is she talking to you?”
I turn my head toward my mother, who’s staring at the ceiling.
It’s not pitch-black because Halle doesn’t like sleeping in the dark.
I don’t either. So I can see the tears on my mom’s face, and it makes my heart hurt that she’s so sad.
My grandparents are here, staying in one of the guest rooms, as well as my aunt and one of my dad’s brothers.
So the house is full, and I can hear noises of them shuffling around, cleaning and cooking, and doing what my grandma says is “what you do” when someone dies.
I can’t believe I know someone who died. It just means…they’re gone? Forever? He was just here. How can he just be gone?
Remembering she asked me a question, I answered, “That she misses him. And…she asked me not to leave her.”
She lets out a breath and rubs her forehead. “Would you be okay with her living with us?”
Doesn’t she already live here? Would she leave? Are we leaving too? “What do you mean?”
“I mean…I would take care of her. And I just wonder…if you’re okay with that. If I don’t, she’d go away and live with someone else. Maybe relatives or another family altogether.”
“What other family?” I frown because Halle is a part of my family. Did she want to go somewhere else? Somewhere without me?
“I don’t know.”
“So we wouldn’t know where she is?”
“Maybe not.”
“No. I want her to stay with us.” I squeeze Halle’s hand, hating the feeling that she could be ripped away at any moment.
“Okay,” my mom says, then turns to her side away from me and lets out a sniffle. “I’m so sorry I couldn’t protect you from this, Sebastian, but…you did so well. Protecting Halle and keeping you both safe. She’ll never forget that.”
Even then, at five years old, I hoped she would.