Sam and Nix fell silently into step beside me five minutes after leaving the house.
Neither of them said a word until I slowed to a stop to look between the two best friends. I couldn't help but stare at Nix, as his expression was so guarded I couldn't tell what he was thinking. He'd been an open book since I walked through the front door at the beginning of summer.
"You need to go back in and talk to him." Nix said quietly, avoiding my eyes. "I know you don't want to, that it's probably the last thing he want to do right now, but I can promise you that you'll regret it if you don't."
I readied myself to respond, but Sam jumped in before I could get a word in. "He's right, Ari. I. . . I think he'll help clear a lot of things up for you. About you. About us. About Mom."
"He filled your guys' heads full of lies about Mom!" My voice rose as I pointed my figure accusingly at Sam. "He made you all believe she was some sort of monster!"
Even the most beautiful people can harbor a demon within them. Damien's words ricocheted around in my head, my hands clenching and unclenching at my sides. I'd considered that maybe my mother had been different to the boys then she was to me, but there was no way she was this evil villain they had all made her out to be. She wouldn't have been able to hurt a fly, let alone beat her own children.
"Fae." Nix reached out and caressed my cheek. "There's so much left up in the air for you right now, and as much as you hate that, your dad can fill in those gaps."
I touched my hand on top of Nix's, feeling my tears finally break the surface and fall from my lashes on to his fingers. He pulled me into his warm, familiar embrace, then kissed my forehead and looked to Sam a few feet away, leaning against the railing of the stairs that led down to the beach.
"I'm going to go tell your dad you guys will be right in." With a quick slap on Sam's shoulder, Nix took off up the sand and back to the front porch.
I lingered for a second before walking over to Sam and leaning down beside him. "I don't want to talk to him, Sam."
"I know." He whispered, eyes still trained on the water. "But Nix is right. There's a lot that you don't know, Ari. Dad can help you fill in all those blanks."
"He's a liar." I swiped my hand across my nose. "And a manipulator."
Sam straightened himself so he was looking down at me, his glasses slipping down his nose. "Says who? Mom? You know as well as I do that there are two sides to every story."
I retreated back into myself hearing the words. He was right, as much as I hated to admit it. He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a folded piece of notebook paper, lips curving upright into a smile.
"I think this might cheer you up. I wasn't going to show anyone until I finished it." He handed the paper over with a slight hesitation when I pinched it between my fingers and scanned the page. It was four stanza's, all in the same beautiful calligraphy that had lined much of the letters Phil had sent over the years.
"In a village in the midst of war
Five souls had swore
To protect one another during this fight
With no potential end in sight."
The last summer here. The first stanza was talking about the summer that I'd left never to return again.
"Out of the ashes came one kindred soul
A broken nomad with no home
Out of the ashes the Phoenix had rose
Making friends out of foes."
The second stanza was clearly a metaphor of Phoenix and how he'd become everyone's light during the time of darkness.
"With every breath he drew,
A spark was ignited
A brightness, a warmth, a ray of light
He was loved by many, hated by few
But there was one person that very few knew
That could ignite his flame, make it anew
A weakness some would say, but he always said
She was the last name inside his head
When he awoke up, and when he went to bed
And as he stood, feeling weary
There she stood, his beautiful fairy."
Stray tear drops had begun to raid the page, smearing the ink slightly, but I managed to read the last stanza before it became a mess of black ink.
"One faithful night a ceasefire sounded
But with it came a revelation that astounded
The Phoenix and his fire receded
As the fairy had retreated
With one last look in his direction
The Phoenix collapsed in devastation."
The night we had left. I could remember all my brothers faces clear as day, it was one of the few memories form my childhood that had forever been imprinted in my mind. Phil had stood behind Dad, tugging at his arm pleadingly as he tried to reason with him, beg him not to allow Mom to separate us. Buck had been sitting on the front porch, knees pulled against his chest as he watched the scene play out before him. Sam and Nix had been the closest to me, offering sad looks of their own, Sam already crying as our mother shouted across the driveway at our father to quiet my brothers. Then there was Aden, Damien at his side. My twin, my other half, was on his knees sobbing in devastation of what was happening. Damien had his hand on his shoulder, but he didn't at all look as if he were going to be able to comfort his best friend.
Then there had been my father, holding my frail eight-year-old body against his chest. I had thrusted my stuffed fairy bear into his arms and made him promise to take care of her before my mother had torn me away from him, and my brothers, and into the back seat of her car. But every pair of eyes on me, full of tears, remained permanently engrained.
"This is beautiful, Sam." I choked out. My brother wrapped his arm around my shoulders and hugged me against his side, but didn't say anything. And for a moment, it was peaceful, just the two of us staring out over the beach and at the setting sun.
*
Once I'd finally forced myself into my father's room, I thought about turning around and running right back out.
It'd been ten years, but his room was still identical to how I'd left it. His twin size bed was still pushed into the far corner of the room, a disheveled mess of black sheets and a comforter hanging halfway off the bed. His computer desk, a large, sleek black hunk of finished wood sat against the wall directly in front of me, in the middle of the room. It was currently stacked with multicolored folders with an occasional manila thrown in. As I wandered closer, my eyes fell on the three picture frames sitting to the far left of the desk away from the cluttered mess. The smallest, a 5x7 sat in a dark brown frame. It was the same picture I had on my mirror my back at home, of the boys and me. The second caught me a little off guard. It was a picture from my Junior Prom last year that Phil had insisted I send. Kinsley and Mom had been able to talk me into going for a couple hours, but it'd just been too long, grueling hours of my face caked in makeup while I watched my phone for any update on Mom. The last was of my brothers and the Holts at Nix and Sam's graduation this past May. In the center were the graduation boys themselves, Nix wearing his usual grin, arm draped over Sam's shoulder, pulling my brother against his side. It was one of the few pictures I'd seen where Sam was actually smiling. It was a small, tight smile, but one nonetheless. Around them were the rest of my brothers and Damien in the midst of trying to catch Aden in a bear hold. All the boys, even Hudson, looked so genuinely happy that it made my heart hurt that I'd missed it.
The sound of the toilet flushing startled me and I looked up, only to be met with the familiar torn and ratty green Tinkerbell wings on my old fairy bear. She looked as though she'd been through it; her faux fur was matted and a little dirty, the wings worn and torn, peeling around the edges. But considering it was over twelve years old it was in immaculate condition.
"That bear goes everywhere with me." My dad's voice sounded through the quiet room. "My colleagues all ask if I have a little girl back home when they see it, you know. And I say, "No, she's a beautiful woman now.'"
I pressed the heel of my palms under my eyes to force my tears back as I watched my Dad lean against his desk in front of me, crossing his arms over his chest.
"I would have thought you'd have tossed it by now." I whispered.
He looked genuinely hurt that I had said such a thing, his eyebrows drawing in confusion. "Never, I don't know why you'd ever think that."
"You didn't even try." I found the words escaping me before I could stop them. "You had millions of dollars and you didn't even try to help her."
My father's dark eyes scoured my face, analyzing me, then he shook his head and said. "I did, Arianna. Over and over I tried to offer her help. I offered to get her into every experimental trial out there. I offered to buy the two of you a house. I offered her everything I possibly could for you, Arianna. But she pushed it all away. She told me she wanted nothing to do with me, wanted you to have nothing to do with me. That you'd be better off without my money and me."
I backed away from him, shoving his extended arm away from me. "No! You're lying! You're lying and you filled my brothers heads full of all this bullshit. You told them that she hit them, that she—"
My father caught my wrist, then slowly took the other, steadying me before I could stumble even further away from him. Once he thought I had recollected myself enough to keep my composure, he rested a hand on my shoulder.
"Your mother, Arianna, was very broken. Before the cancer, I mean." He bowed his head. "She was brought up in an extremely abusive household and as hard as she tried to break that cycle, she couldn't. It started with just light smacks, then actual hits, and occasionally she'd take a belt to your brothers. She'd snap, sweetheart, and when she did she didn't care who it was that she was hitting. She'd beat your brothers, she'd beat you, sometimes she'd even try to hit me. Your last summer here you were out in the pool with her and you'd done something and she began trying to drown you. The younger Holt boy, Damien, had to throw the life preserver at her for her to let you go. If he hadn't been there to save you, you wouldn't be here."
I stared at him, swallowing the sob that was threatening to break free. "She's dead, what a great time to make up lies she can't defend herself against."
The moment the words left my mouth, my body grew rigid. This was the first time I had acknowledged her death aloud. It made it feel a thousand times more real.
"I'm not making up lies nor am I putting full blame on her. I made my fair share of mistakes too, sweetheart. I cheated, I left your brothers, I allowed her to drive a massive wedge between you and your brothers. I'm not saying these things to make you hate your mother, Arianna, but these things did happen."
"Then why don't I remember them?" I croaked, having to grasp my father's forearm to keep from collapsing. "Why don't I remember any of it?"
My father wiped at the tears that stained my cheeks. "Sometimes our brains block out trauma in the only way it knows how. But if I remember correctly, Phoenix befriended you during the worst of the abuse. And that boy, Arianna, he could make the devil forget why he rules over hell. So it's possible your brain latched on to the goodness of Phoenix rather than the trauma of that summer."
I shook my head, wanting to sink into a hole in the ground. My face must have been conveying every unspoken word and emotion, because my father hugged me against him, running his hand through my hair as he continued.
"Your mother was a beautiful woman. She did have a beautiful heart under all those years of trauma. And I see in you, Arianna, that she tried to reconcile what she could before she passed on."
I shook my head against him. "You didn't even go to the funeral."
"Your mother wasn't at all fond of me, Arianna. She cut off all and any communication between you and me, and almost completely between you and your brothers. She wouldn't have wanted me there."
I stepped away, still in denial. "So that makes it okay for you to just. . . just kill yourself and leave the boys to suffer without getting to know you?"
"What are you talking about?"
"When I hugged you right now, Dad. Your heart, that's not normal." I pressed my palm against his chest. "Phil and I found old medical records too. Dad if you don't stop this shit you're going to die."
He shook his head, averting his eyes as he pinched the bridge of his nose. "I'm not having this conversation with you, Arianna."
"They don't deserve to feel that kind of pain, Dad!" I shouted, throwing my hand in a gesture toward the door behind me. "What's the plan? Go on a business trip and die out on a yacht? Leave the boys wondering, questioning, reeling?"
My father straightened himself out, anger replacing the sadness that had been present only seconds ago.
"Those boys are better off without me!" He yelled. "All I've ever done is damage all of you."
"They need you, Dad." I bit down hard on my lip to keep it from trembling. "They need whatever time you have left to be spent with them. You can't reverse the damage done, but you can live with what time you have."
He refused to look at me as he answered. "Do you not see how they turned out? They all turned into these incredible men, far stronger, braver, courageous then I could ever be. Because they had each other. They all shared a bond that I could never give them."
"They need their father!" I cried, slapping my hands against his chest. "They need you! I need you!"
His anger drained in seconds, his eyes finally falling on me again. He looked so guilt ridden that I almost felt sorry for him. Almost.
"I never wanted kids you know." He said, as if that would make me feel better. "Then we had Phil. But your mother wanted a girl so bad. Unfortunately for us every time she wound up pregnant again it was another boy. Then, that one day when the ultrasound tech put the wand on you, just when we thought our twins were going to be boys, we were told you were our little girl. Our little miracle after years of trying. These boys, Arianna, they don't need me. They need you. You're the missing piece they need, not me."
I threw my hands up in exasperation, a cold, emotionless laugh escaping me. "Not wanting kids doesn't mean you shouldn't take responsibility for the ones you made. If that's how you want to die, with hatred, bitterness, and guilt for yourself, then do it. Then you'll what everyone already knows you are. A coward.'
Before he could respond, I stalked toward the door and threw it open, only to be face to face with my twin brothers, fresh tears pooling in his blue eyes as he stared at me, mouth agape.
"Aden!" I tried to catch his arm, but he was down the hall and out of sight before I could say another word.