What's a Heart to a Soul

2.9 Oh Brother

We had landed a few hours ago and were immediately escorted to another black Chevy Tahoe as though it had come cross country from LA with us. The air was cool here, the breeze refreshing as I stepped out of the SUV with the book tightly tucked in my arms. The uneven sidewalk of the street nearly tripped me up as my focus was entirely on the home before me. The blue paint seemed fresh, the shutters pure white and grass freshly trimmed.

Well it certainly hasn't burned down.

Carter stepped out to stand beside me, the door slamming shut behind her.

I leaned against her and she wrapped her arm around my shoulder as I mumbled out "Wow I was expecting it to be, like, abandoned or something but this place is just as beautiful as the day they took me away."

"It really is a lovely home." Carter stated before pressing a kiss to the top of my head.

I took her hand in mine, the book tucked in my free arm, and pulled her along with me up the walkway to the front porch. I could feel my heart thumping out my chest as we climbed the steps and stood in front of the door.

"You got this." Carter smiled over at me, giving my hand a reassuring squeeze.

I let out a shaky breath and dropped her hand before I knocked firmly three times. I bit my lip, time seemingly slowing as we waited. I heard the faint sound of footsteps followed by the door swinging open to reveal a tall muscular middle aged man with shaggy brown hair and eyes remarkably similar to mine.

"Hello, can I help you?" His eyes were narrowed on me, his brows knitted together and his lips drawn into a tight line.

I opened my mouth to speak but found the words getting caught in my throat. I glanced down at the book and then back up to find him staring at it like he'd seen a ghost. I swallowed hard and then extended the book out to him, his golden brown eyes wide as he stared down at it. He reached out, his hands shaky ever so slightly as he took it and examined it like it was the very meaning of life itself.

He looked back up at me, his eyes now dark "Where did you get this?"

"This was one of my foster homes as a kid." I stated, trying my best not to let my voice betray me.

His eyes flickered down to the book and then back up to meet mine "You look just like her."

"Who?" I questioned as the scene seemingly faded in upon itself.

I was now inside, staring at the same woman that had been standing behind me playing the piano. She was holding the book, her thumb gently brushing across the initials in the corner.

In an instant I was back on the porch and he shook his head as though in disbelief "My sister, Blake."

"Brandon?" I questioned, the name seemingly coming from the very depths of my mind.

His mouth was slightly agape as he stared back at me. He bit his lip and blinked hard a few times before looking back down at the book and then up and down the street.

"Would you want to come in?" He asked, opening the door wider.

I nodded and slipped inside with Carter following close behind me. I recognized the layout instantly, remembering where each room hid beyond the entryway. Walking inside felt like going home.

"Let's talk in the living room." Brandon stated, stepping around us and accidentally bumping into my shoulder.

A memory flashed before my eyes once more, this one seemingly much further away than the last.

"Come on sis, last one there is a rotten egg!" His tiny voice yelled out running past me.

He was just a kid, maybe eight at most. We were in the backyard and he was making a beeline for the oak tree. I ran after him and watched as he got a leg up on me as he climbed the first branch. I was close behind, climbing the first as he reached for the second. He was much faster, his legs and arms much longer than mine, making for an easy advantage. As he reached the top I felt myself boiling over as I glared at him.