Tell Me Lies

4: Home

At first glance, Ciranne Harbour doesn't seem like the town from some messed-up prophecy. It's a relatively simple port village; the houses are clustered together near the waterline, each with bigger windows than the last. The asphalt roads run parallel to cobblestone pathways for the swarm of pedestrians that occupy every square inch of empty space.

I roll my window down to breathe in the fresh, salty tang that rises off the water. Seagulls circle above head, sitting in cliques on the power lines that crisscross the streets.

"Where does Nevada live, again?" I ask Nadia for what feels like the tenth time. And, for the eleventh time, she throws her hands up and checks her phone for the address.

"I don't know. I'm not the one who used to live here. You spent nine years of your life in this place. You figure it out."

"Okay, I'm pretty sure it's this street," I tell her, for what isn't the first time. The clouds crackle with the promise of thunder in the distance. Rain smashes against the sidewalk like pellets of ice, forming puddles that splash into the car as I drive. Nadia implores me to shut the window, but I refuse every time. The smell is homely, the same way that the smell of pencil shavings and my mother's fruity perfume was homely, and I keep inhaling just for the sake of it.

Luckily, I choose the correct street. Nevada's house is small, its lawn growing wild with grass and tiny purple flowers. I park on the curb and stare into the murky window. A shadowy figure crosses to the door, and it opens to reveal a face that looks a lot like Nadia if the colour of her clothes and her hair were inverted. Nevada's hair is long and raven, and her shirt is blue instead of red. It's almost uncanny how similar they look, save for the fact that Nevada's cheeks are rosier, and she's a few inches shorter.

When she walks, Nevada is a bit unsteady. Nadia wraps her into a soft hug. "It's so nice to see you!"

Nevada invites Deon and me into the house. She apologizes for the mess, but I see none. Her carpeted floors are spotless, and even the coasters on her table are perfectly at the centre. She sits in a rocking chair by the window and struggles to regain her breath. "I'm sorry, give me a minute."

"No, I shouldn't have made you come out. Can I get you anything? Some water?"

Nevada nods, and Nadia rushes to the kitchen to fetch her a drink. She fumbles to find the correct cupboard, and in the silence, Nevada looks at Deon and me. "So... it's nice to finally meet you."

"Likewise." Deon beams, even though her words weren't intended for him. I nudge him with my elbow. "Oh, you meant... my bad. I'm just the third-wheel."

"Ignore him. It's nice to meet you." I try to offer her my hand, but she's too busy holding her arm to her chest to notice it. "Are you all right?"

She wheezes. "Fine. My lungs are a bit spent, but I'll be okay. You didn't have to come all this way for me, you know."

"I used to live here," I offer. "It's really not a long drive. It's actually quite fun when you don't have two other people in the car who make it their personal mission to be as annoying as possible."

Deon places a hand to his heart, pretending to be shocked. "I'll have you know that I am a delight to be around. Isn't that right, Dia?"

Nadia passes the water to her cousin, who gulps it down. "Don't call me that," she whispers.

He rolls his eyes.