The Second Shot

Chapter Eighteen

(Trigger Warning for fire and death, or talk of it)

Things must have been going too well for Eacker, or at least that's what could be assumed when he got the letter from Catherine on an early March morning.

He couldn't get through the tear-stained letter by himself, and had to have Hamilton read it outloud to him while he held onto the edge of the kitchen table like his life depended on it, and his friends rubbed his back sympathetically.

"Dear George," Hamilton read outloud to the otherwise silent kitchen "last night Mother left a candle burning in hers and Father's bedroom overnight. We're not sure what happened exactly, but the house, our house, burned to the ground, taking Mother and Father with it.
Jacob and I are ok, but currently staying in the hospital, Jacob having minor burn wounds. I don't know how bad they are, but the doctor say he will survive.
I'm writing this on March 6th, but it will be a few days until you get this.
Since I'm the older one of Jacob and I, the work of preparing the funeral and such has gone to me. I hope you can get down here quickly so I'm not left to deal with it all alone.
Oh, George, I'm so in shock. I can't quite understand that Mother and Father are gone. I keep expecting Mother to walk through the door with a glass of wine in hand, or Father to yell for Jacob from another room.
And Jacob is so young, barely twelve, and he's taking the loss so much worse than me.
Since you are our only living relative, at least that's what Father's lawyer friend says, you'll be required to take us in. I hope we aren't too much trouble to you.
Love,
Catherine.

A silence hung over the nine of them. George was glad that Maria was at the Hamilton household, playing with Hamilton's little brother, James.

"I have to go pack." Eacker said numbly. He stood up from his chair and walked upstairs just to sit back down on his bed.

He had never truly loved his parents like a child should. His Father was too stern, and his Mother was too distant. But even so, the grief of losing then was horrible. He hadn't expected to hear the news of their deaths so soon, not like this.

But he had to be strong. As the oldest, it was his job to look after his siblings, and goddamnit, he was going to the best job he could.

Eacker stood up, fought back the urdge to cry, and began to pack.

(I bet the three of you who actually read this are shook.
And I actually wanted to cry a little bit when I was writing Catherine's letter, I might be a bit too attached to this fanfiction.)