Dear Sister, Never Again #ONC2022

Do Not Approach

Before I can walk out the door to follow my screaming sister down the hall, Brett steps in my way. "You don't want to do that."

"Excuse me? Shouldn't it be my choice whether I want to see my sister?"

"Miss Houston, she's in custody. If I knew she had yet to be transferred, I wouldn't have asked you to come right now. I apologize for putting you in this situation, but the best thing to do is give her space. And take some for yourself."

I glare at Constable Leicester, unsure of the policies and procedures, and not wanting to land myself locked up next to my sister—though that would solve the homelessness issue I'm facing. "Transferred?"

"She's being transferred to the jail, where she'll be held until they can schedule an arraignment. There's nothing you can do for her right now."

"What if I don't want to press charges?" I bite my lip, hating myself for asking.

Leicester clearly disagrees with even considering such a thing. His dark brows draw together in the centre of his forehead as he glares down his nose at me. "That's your decision, but in my experience, your insurance company, because you gave your sister keys to your home, won't give you anything without criminal charges. Otherwise, people would trash their own houses so insurance would pay for a renovation."

That makes sense, and I hate having to choose. In my current situation, I'm still left with a mortgage to pay for a house I can't live in and will have to pay for somewhere else to stay. I can't afford both. My options are not really options at all. That insurance payout is my only lifeline. But Emily is my only family. The only connection to my mom and grandmother. The only one who knows the ins and outs of the family traditions we held over the past two decades, whether or not she cares to continue them. She is the only person I can look over old photos with and recall the exact emotions felt in those moments frozen in time.

I slump down in a chair I had yet to straighten and collapse with my face in my hands. After a few seconds, I hear a chair being dragged beside me and Brett takes a seat. He doesn't speak, and neither do I for several moments.

Eventually, I can't handle the awkward silence. "Do you have siblings, Constable?"

"Brett. Yes, I do. I have two older brothers and a little sister."

"And what would you do in my situation? Emily is the only family I have. If you were me, what would you do? Would you burn that bridge for an insurance cheque?"

He breathes a loud sigh. "I can't imagine being in your position, if I'm honest. My siblings and I have always been close. So I'm not the right person to ask. But, if I can be frank with you, from a professional point of view, she's the one who burned the bridge; that's not on you. You wouldn't be choosing an insurance cheque over her, you'd be choosing what's best for your future and she'll have to face the consequences of her own actions. It's important for you to separate those things."

It's not that simple. I can't separate my future from my sister. I can't rationalize a future with a home, but without the only family I have left. There are more important things in life than money, and for me, family is one of those things. Logic tells me I need that insurance money, but a lifetime of dealing with Emily's wrath tells me she'll never forgive me, so that's another fear. She won't just serve her punishment, forgive, and forget. She'll make me regret making her face the consequences. I'm afraid I'll be without a sister and she'll return with a fury, the likes of which I've never felt before, and I've seen plenty.

Based on Brett's response, he won't understand that. Or he'll tell me she needs to pay for what she's done. As a man of the law, I'm assuming he has some faith in the justice system. I do not. Nor do I think it has the ability to rehabilitate lifetime criminals. Emily is a pretty face, but she has a spiteful, unforgiving heart. Be that as it may, it's a spiteful heart I still feel obligated to care for.