Rowan → Ethan Nakamura ✔

Forgiveness

An hour later, silence fell. Mr. and Mrs. Ma hadn't been around to receive their son's phone call, and Rowan was secretly glad. Sitting in tense quiet, waiting for her siblings to say something was bad enough, never mind her parents.

It seemed as if they didn't know where to look – sometimes at Will and Nico, not quite believing their godhood, and even more visually stunned by how they were opposites yet perfect in compatibility, with Will's platinum smile and Nico's brooding look. Sometimes at Billie, who looked like them but didn't really sound like them with the foreign accent on her rusty Cantonese.

But mostly, they looked at Ethan, who Rachel and Robbie remembered but Ryan didn't, for he had been two when Ethan left. Robbie's memory was foggy – he had only been four – but he vaguely recalled a boy who made his favorite sister laugh like nothing he had heard before. Rachel's recollection was clearer – six years old – and she remembered how Ethan would carry her on his back and pretend to be a beast, stomping through grass and howling as she laughed.

Yet the one thing they could still envision was Rowan's pain. The grey cloud that had hung over their sister and the rest of the house for so long. So Rachel and Robbie glared at Ethan, who was unprepared for their sudden hostility.

"You should go see your dad." Rachel said, in a voice too cold to be hers.

Ethan blinked. "I will. Is he here?"

"He's in Japan visiting family."

Will, Nico and Billie didn't understand the unspoken jab, but Ethan and Rowan did: They didn't want Ethan here.

Rowan felt his demeanor change. He stood up, his hair falling forward to cast a shadow over his eyepatch. "I'm heading next door." He announced, more to Rowan than anyone else.

"It's locked, isn't it?"

"There's a key under a loose floor tile."

"Surprised you remember that." Rachel said scathingly.

Ethan didn't respond. He walked out of the Ma's apartment, limbs stiffer than before. Rowan nudged Will, who picked up on the need for some privacy. He grabbed Nico and Billie, and they followed Ethan out. Billie was the last out, and as soon as her feet touched the corridor outside, Robbie shut the door harder than was necessary. Ryan jumped, scowling at Robbie.

"Too loud." Ryan complained.

Robbie snorted. "Your video games are even louder."

"Ma Wu Xing, what is your problem?" Rowan turned to Rachel, who winced a little at the use of her full name, only ever spoken when she was in trouble. Still, she stubbornly glared back.

"He left, Ro," she snapped. "Did you forget? He left, and you and Mr. Nakamura were never the same!"

Rowan scoffed. "Of course I haven't forgotten."

And she hadn't. The first week had been hell. Nights with the curtains pulled open, silver light spilling onto her covers. Sitting cross-legged, staring up at the moon and wondering if he was somewhere out there, watching the same rocky, crater-covered face. She had wrung her tear ducts dry by then, and that left nothing but a numb, hollow ache, which was even worse. At least with tears her pain had an outlet – without them, her pain was bottled up, the pressure of it exploding worse as each day went by.

"You didn't eat, you didn't sleep," Robbie said softly. "You stayed in your room and lost so much weight that when Ma finally convinced you to open the door, she cried."

Rowan took an uneasy breath. Now that was a memory she wanted to forget – the sound of her mother's sobs from the next room, Old Man Ma's soft murmuring as he comforted his wife.