M.I.A.

Chapter 20

Chapter Twenty:

Sydney

My fork scrapes against my plate as I sit with John at our otherwise empty dining room table. Mom's still shut in my parents' room. Dad says he's not hungry and is just sitting in the living room, staring out the window. I'm not hungry either, but I know I need to eat. I shove my noodles into my gravy.

John made dinner. Nothing fancy, just bland chicken, noodles, and frozen green beans, but it's better than the PB&J I would have made myself if it were just me.

"Where did they say the car was, exactly?"

I try to focus—to find words. John's full of questions, he's the only one with his head screwed on tight. I've never seen him this intense, not even at swim meets. "I don't know."

"Well," he says into his own untouched plate, "we'll have to find out. We can go looking on our own."

I grip the edge of my shorts, tugging at the frayed edges. "What if...what if what we find is..." I can't even say the words. What if she's dead? What if we find her body laying on the side of the road somewhere?

John's deep growl draws my eyes. "That's not gonna happen, Syd. She's alive, I know she is."

I nod, though I don't feel as certain. "I-I need to go to bed." I push away from the table and head toward the stairs. For whatever reason, I stop in the doorway and glance back at John. He's staring fixedly at the wall, but his fists are balled under the table and his broad shoulders are tense. He's chewing his lip. I've never seen him do that before. I glance at the stairs and back at him. "Why don't you sleep in her room tonight?"

John lifts his chin and stares at me wide eyed.

I shrug. "I don't think my parents would notice and...I think she'd like it. She never stopped loving you. You know that, right?"

John looks down again, his shoulders caving inward. "I know." His voice is tight.

So hard, so determined. He loves my sister so much. I drift back into the dining room and lace my fingers under his elbow. He gets up without prompting and lets me lead him to Mia's room.

For a long time, he stands in the doorway staring at what must have once felt like a second home to him. He was here so often. Two years of dating my sister. There must be so many memories, so many ghosts hiding behind the dark piles of her clothes. I know there are for me.

Over the past few days I've just sat in there, remembering late night conversations, heated arguments, laughter, smelling my sister and thinking about what she did in here when her secret temple doors were closed against the world. The memories are so vivid that it's like she's not gone. I've questioned my sanity over and over, but as promised to Nick, I haven't tested myself again.

Now, it's John's turn to feel her ghost. I reach out and grasp the door handle, drawing the door between him and me, closing him in with the phantom of my sister.

I'm not even to my own door before his sob and the sound of his knees hitting the floor freeze me in my steps. I snap myself out of it, forcing myself not to listen as John totally loses it, and rush into my own room.

I close my own door, shutting out the noise and sink to the floor.

I cry, too, not hard painful sobs, but quiet tears of despair.

When Nick appears, bundling his big body through my open window, he goes still at the sight of me sitting with my legs drawn close in the darkness. I hold my arms out for him and he comes, lifting me up and carrying me to my bed, wrapping me in his arms and laying with me until sleep comes.

No words. There doesn't have to be. Not when you love someone. And that's the only thing I know to be true despite insanity.