From Tina

Prologue: From Seb

S E B

I need you to know that right now it's hard to make promises.

So I might not be there for your birthday this year

√sent

I look at the letters sitting on the kitchen island one more time. There's no guarantee that she'll find them. And if I check if she's seen the text one more time? Maybe I won't have to do this. Maybe she could come here and I could tell her everything. We could make more discoveries together. We could look into Gramps and Nana. And what then? A couple of happy moments of mutual understanding, and attempts to find our way out? But then, eventually, they would still come. They wouldn't just take me, they'd take her too. They'd take the last bit of our family. Just like that, we'd be over. It's best to do this.

The walls rattle together for a few moments before an uncommon silence settles with a barely visible fog. From the tiled floor beneath me, there's a hiss like that of a kettle. The sound grows in pitch, and the floor trembles, rocking itself back and forth. I grasp for the counter. Tile shards from around the island spit towards the wall. The ground beneath the island bubbles upwards. It gives off several gasping shrieks. They must be creating a mountain of themselves now. Their voices collide into one another, clawing and scratching and itching to get a hold of solid ground. Somehow, I can finally understand their words. I give myself one more heavy breath, reaching for the letters sliding across the now angled island, and tossing them out of the kitchen. I'm left between gripping the side counter and the wall.

"I think it's time Flor". She'd better hear it now. Then, there it is: a ball of light squeezes from the outer pocket of my backpack to the floor. It empties itself out. The light rips itself apart to flush the entire room in a deep and slow blue. Then I am no longer standing. Or maybe I am. But I am still, like the rest of the house. Then I know it's over. And now we just need Tina.

"Thank you, Flor" It doesn't come out the way I remember words doing. But all for the best. Flor hears me. She has to.