“You look good, son,” my dad says. “Healthy. Happy. The life you’ve created is working for you. What brought you back?”

“I missed my family, so I learned what I needed to accomplish my goals and came back. To be upfront, I’ll be home for a week, and then I’m heading to the city. I decided that would be the best place to start my business.”

“So cars, huh?”

“High-end custom Italian cars,” I clarify.

“I like cars,” my mom says, “Maybe I should be your first customer.”

“As much as I appreciate the support, Dad, we’re talking a million base price. I wouldn’t let you spend your money like that.”

He whistles. “Wow, that’s impressive. I know there’s a market for collectibles.”

“I already have three orders. Once they’re delivered in six months, those will hit the street and internet, and I’ll get more orders.”

“What’s the maximum number of orders you can take at one time and still deliver?”

I like that my dad is not only holding me to the fire but pressing me to know my shit. I know it. “Twelve in production at one time with upward of thirty for the year in orders. Beyond that, I’ll need to build my own factory instead of licensing rights and using other manufacturers.”

My mom is wide-eyed. “Harbor, this is so impressive. You’re building something from nothing from your own dreams.”

“Yeah,” I say, grinning. “I’m pretty proud of myself. This is not something I ever thought I could do two years ago. I was going to be a doctor.”

“You would have been miserable,” she says, reaching over again to touch my arm in comfort. “Your heart was never in it, but you seemed so focused that I didn’t dare risk questioning you. I’ve learned from that. I now ask the necessary questions.”

That we all have learned something from whatever I’m calling it these days—mistakes, crisis, life—will serve us better in not only our communication but moving forward to living our lives to the fullest.

Marina peeks out the back door, and asks, “Are we interrupting?” I can see her excitement to spend time with me. I feel the same about her and my brothers as well.

My dad says, “Come on out.”

The three of them join us. It feels good to share some laughs and tell some stories, catching up and hearing about the basic things in their day like tests or a co-worker Loch finds distracting.

“One of the reasons I came back is that I need to tell you guys something,” I say, not hesitant at all this time. “I’m not sure there’s ever a good time to have this conversation, but it’s time the truth came out.”

Loch asks, “The truth about what?”

“Lucas’s death and what happened to me the day he died.”

My family is silent, eerily still. If I had a doubt, now would be the perfect time for one to sneak in. I don’t, though. I can’t live with this burden any longer. To truly live means to be honest with the people I care about, even at the expense of my cousin’s life being tainted by his own actions.