I made the rays pierce through the clouds, like golden arrows. Evelyn went back to her drawing, tired of waiting for me to answer. I didn’t know how to tell her that I was doing everything I could to fix what was broken and that sometimes, at night, I would lie perfectly still, frightened that if I moved too fast, I would wreck it all. That I was certain that discovering why my mother left would also reveal Leah’s secret, the pain of which I could not again be responsible for. I didn’t want to tell her how much I wanted Leah to love me and that I could never see her sad again. I didn’t tell her that sometimes when I closed my eyes, I could feel my sister and mother calling out to me, distracting me from becoming the person Leah wanted me to be. I couldn’t tell her any of it.

“I don’t care anymore.”

I said it so softly that she didn’t hear, but instead of saying it again, I ripped my card into hundreds of yellow and blue shreds and stuffed them into the trashcan, which was already overflowing with my mistakes.

That night when I went to bed, I barely slept. And when I finally woke, I could tell by the color of the light that it was too early. I didn’t have an alarm clock; I woke at the same time every morning. But this morning I was early and it was hard getting up because my lips were stuck to the pages of my journal.

It’s fast and round and bouncy and happens for no reason and I think maybe this time it won’t but then it does and I can’t make it stop and the letters come and I can’t see anything else and when I open my eyes she is there whispering words that don’t make sense but sound soft like feathers. Her teeth are white and sparkly and I like the quiet bird sounds she makes but then it feels tight and the rocking starts and I close my eyes. When I open them she gives me a book and a pen with red ink. She is next to me, humming, and I am circling letters and thinking that I can never leave this place and then like a wave in the ocean, the rocking starts again and I close my eyes but now the only thing I see is you.

Matilda.

Haunting my thoughts, my dreams. The journal had become my burden, filled with my sister’s promises, reminding me that I had been left behind, that things were unfinished and unanswered. I wanted it to disappear along with the dreams that haunted me at night. I slipped the journal under my mattress, but that only reminded me of Leah’s secret hiding place, so I pulled it back out.