“Hey,” they say, voices dragging. No one even tries to fake a smile. Boy, was I wrong about things not getting too depressing with company around.

This has to end. It would be different if these were finally-united-and-it-feels-so-good tears. That would actually be nice. But tears from another stop on Daddy’s apology tour? Nobody has time for that. I’m mad Jordan had to sit in on it. This heaviness is not hers. Really, it’s not any of ours. It’s Daddy’s.

“It’s super nice outside. Y’all wanna go up to the basketball court?” I ask, hardly believing the words coming out of my mouth. But dribbling and shooting under the sun would be way better than staying here in this funk.

Brighter faces all around. Except for Daddy’s. He’s looking down at the floor, his mind somewhere else.

Jordan climbs out of the sofa. “Hadn’t planned on ballin’ today, but you know I’m always down.” She’s wearing her Jordan 9 Retros. She doesn’t usually ball in her Retros.

“I thought ballin’ was always the plan,” Shannon says, and bites the nail on her pointer finger. She’s dressed in a baggy T-shirt, long shorts, and some Nike Dunks—clearly ready.

“Plan?” I look at Daddy, but he’s still looking down at the floor. Then I look at Cole. His long, lightly freckled cheeks are going pink. Of course it was Cole. But you know what? I can’t even be mad.

Shannon is our sister. Like, I have a sister. And she’s real. She’s standing in our living room with chewed-up nubs for nails (does she know how many hundreds of thousands of bacteria can live under just one dirty nail?) and her hair tied back in a bun. Wait, did she tie it back for me? I need to tell her she doesn’t have to do that. I need to tell her so many things.

I mean, I’d be lying if I said Shannon being here doesn’t feel strange. But it feels more normal than when I first walked in. And I’m sure it will feel even more normal when we get out of this house. Will it ever feel completely normal having a sister I only learned about at sixteen? I don’t know. But life isn’t about to sit around and wait on normal.

REX

Carli just walked through the opening in the hedges. No. Can’t be. But the way the sun is glinting off the gold medallion on her chest, and the way her big hair is bouncing off her bare shoulders, tell me I’m not trippin’.

She’s walking behind Cole—and wait, is that Shannon?—rockin’ some high-top yellow Blazers with a tank top and some cut-off jean shorts. And now Jordan just walked in, too. Cole never said anybody else was coming.