The wind blows, rustling the leaves across the ground. The headstone is beautiful. A dancing girl is carved into the granite. The words A dream is a wish your heart makes when you’re fast asleep are etched below her. It was my favorite quote from Cinderella. There’s a vase of flowers sitting in front of the headstone. Real ones, not the fake ones people normally use to avoid replacing them.
“This is beautiful,” I remark quietly to the man beside me.
“Mom and D—” He stops and clears his throat. “Donald and Sandra picked out a plain slab. One of the first things we did when we came back was change it. Emo picked out the headstone, and I picked the quote.”
I glance back at Aziah, who’s several yards away, giving me and Trouble a moment alone together.
“It’s perfect.”
“He comes out here every week and replaces those.” He juts his chin toward the flowers. “I did it for a while too, to let him know he didn’t have to put them out there on his own, but he just kept doing it himself. I eventually left it up to him. I think it was something he needed to do on his own.” His voice l
owers. “He has a flower garden in his backyard that he takes care of. That’s where all the flowers come from, and he only uses them for this.”
Sorrow fills me, and I look at Aziah again. He always portrays himself as this hardened, unattached man, but on the inside, he’s so full of love and compassion. Even being away from him for twenty-four years, I can still see it.
“Emo has a lot of problems,” Trouble continues, and I bring my attention back to him. He turns to face me. “More so now than when you knew him before. He’s volatile, unpredictable, and unstable. Half the time I don’t know what he’s thinking, and he’s capable of anything. The man isn’t all the way right in his head.”
Anger begins to slowly make itself known inside of me. I don’t like the way he’s talking about Aziah.
A small smile appears on his face, and it only irritates me further.
“You misunderstand me, Rella. I don’t say this out of disrespect to Emo or because I think less of him. I say it because you and he seem to be really close. The bond between you two is stronger today than it was back then. He’s changed over the years, but there’s always been two constants: his guilt over what he was forced to do to you, and his guilt because he felt like he failed you.”
Tears burn the backs of my eyes and my chest grows tight. I take in shallow breaths of air because it hurts too much to pull in more.
“I’ve never blamed him,” I whisper through my constricting throat.
Trouble moves closer but stops a couple of feet away. “You and I both know that. It’s only him who doesn’t. I’ve told him many times over the years he had no choice, but we both know how stubborn he is. His mind is set on one belief and it won’t let him believe anything else.”
Guilt is a living thing that can swallow a person whole. I know this from experience. I carried my own guilt for years for letting my brother continue to believe I was dead. I never blamed him, Aziah, or the others for not coming and taking me away from Gabriela and Marco, but I often wondered why they didn’t. It wasn’t until a year after I came to live with them that they let it slip that everyone thought I died that day in the gazebo.
After I left Gabriela and Marco, I wanted so badly to find them, but then I found out where they were, and I just couldn’t go to them. Even if it meant they still believed I died. Even if it meant I knew they would blame themselves. I was selfish.
“I carry some of that guilt myself. I will always feel I could have done something more to protect you better. Done something so you didn’t feel like you had to take your own life.” He holds up his hand when I go to speak. “There’s nothing you or anyone can say to change that.” He taps the side of his head. “In here I know there wasn’t anything I could do.” He taps his chest next. “But in here, it eats at me.”
I lift my hand, desperately wanting to reach out to him, but let it fall to my side a second later.
He smiles, but it’s filled with sadness.
“One day, little sister. One day you’ll let me hold you. I can wait until then.”
More tears leak down my cheeks. “I love you, Trouble.”
“And I love you.”
He turns slightly, his eyes sliding to Aziah.
“I’m glad you came back. Not just for myself, but more so for him.” He swivels his head back to me. “He needs you. I know you’re going through more than what you let on, so I know you need him just as much. He’s been broken all these years, and I think you’re the only one who can help heal him. I think you can heal each other.”
I’m left with no idea what to say, because I don’t know if I can do what he’s suggesting. How can one broken person heal another broken person? Aziah has always carried a special place in my heart, even from my first memory of him. He’s always been quiet and withdrawn, and I watched him go deeper inside himself the years we were in Sweet Haven. But no matter how dark his world got, he was always one of the best parts of mine.
I bite my lip to try to stop my tears from flowing. I give Trouble a silent nod. I don’t know if what he’s saying is true, if I’m capable of healing even a small part of Aziah, but for some reason Trouble believes it so. And if there’s any chance at all, I’ll do my best. Because Aziah deserves more than the dark world he’s lived in so far.
“I have something for you.”
He holds out a hand and peels back his fingers. I gasp at the silver cross necklace cradled in his palm. I forgot all about it until now. I used to wear it all the time until the clasp broke.
“Oh, wow,” I breathe as he drops the necklace in my palm. “I can’t believe you still have this.”