I'm waiting outside the police station for my parents to come out. I have a small packet of tissues in my pocket, the kind you carry when you're not feeling well. There's also a big tissue box in Dad's car on Azura's seat.
Our family SUV is the only vehicle in the small parking lot. You'd expect a busy police station, but in our peaceful hometown of Palawan, crime is rare. Then my sister passed away.
The police are looking into her death, even though it seems like she took her own life. They're following the rules, so they called my parents to get more details before releasing her body.
When the glass door opens, my mother rushes out of the station. I go to get the tissue box. She takes my hands and dabs her eyes. My father is talking to the detective in charge of Azura's case.
"Mom," I start to say, but she hugs me and stops me from talking. Her tears wet my t-shirt. I try not to cry.
She lets go, cups my cheek, and whispers, "It's over." She smiles, but I'm not sure why. We all feel empty. I can see Azura in my mother's eyes. They're looking at me, but it's like they don't really see me.
I feel sick, so I gently step away from my mom. She wipes her cheeks as my dad and the detective come over.
"We appreciate your help," Detective Dristan Tonnoir-Abrego says something and shakes all our hands. "I know this must have been hard for you," he adds, keeping his hand on mine.
My dad says, "We're taking it one day at a time," and I clench my teeth.
Before letting go of my hand, Detective Dristan shakes it again and gives, "We're doing everything we can to speed things up for you."
"Thank you, Detective Dristan," my mom says softly. She puts her hand on my shoulder. I stare at my feet, trying not to move.
He gives my mother a stack of business cards and says, "Many people are going through what you're experiencing. It's okay to seek help and connect with others who have lost someone dear."
I look at the top card: "Suicide Support."
I quietly tell Detective Dristan, "She didn't take her own life."
"We're considering all possibilities," he nods. "But the evidence suggests—"
I insist again, "She didn't do it," and I see both my parents flinch. We've been arguing about this for three days. They doubt her, and I defend, "She didn't!"
"Alora," my dad says gently as he opens the car door, "please just get in."
I look down, avoiding their sad and angry faces. I don't need to hear more to understand. It's the same thing I've heard from everyone since she passed away. That I'll feel alone and that I'll get through this. That I'm not to blame.
They all believe Azura took her own life by hanging herself. But I'm the only one who really knows Azura and knows she would never do something like this to our family or to me. She's always been stronger than me.
As my parents discuss Azura's funeral downstairs, I lie on my bed, thinking about Azura's steel drawer. Do ghosts know what happens to their bodies after they die?
I close my eyes, breathing unsteadily. How long does it take to stop crying? I don't want to stop crying for Azura. If I stop crying, does it mean I've stopped grieving? Does it make her less important if the memories and sorrow fade?
I think back to the months before Azura's death. I felt something was wrong, that she was in trouble, but I stayed silent. I thought we could handle it ourselves.
Was that too simple? Is it my fault? Could I have prevented this by telling someone about Azura's behavior?
"I know you didn't take your own life," I say, maybe to convince myself, maybe because I truly believe it. "You didn't do it. You...You didn't—"
I break down in my room, alone, crying until I can't cry anymore. I want to sleep, but sleep escapes me. Every time I close my eyes, I see her hanging with her neck at an unnatural angle.
"Alora."
That voice is like an angel's. Comforting...
A hand touches my cheek, and my body warms, pushing away the cold. The haunting image in my mind is carried away by the wind, and I feel safe. Numb. But when I open my eyes, I blink. No one is sitting next to me as I expected.
I sit up and look around the room. It's dark outside, and the forest is a solid black mass through my window. Did I fall asleep?
I turn my gaze away from the window and lie back down. These days, all I can do is stay in bed. Without my sister, the world feels less important...
When I close my eyes again, silent tears roll down my cheeks. The house and my room are quiet. Azura used to play the piano, waking me and my parents with her melodies in the morning. I never understood how she could wake up so early and be so cheerful when I stumbled downstairs.
Death has taken more than just my sister. It's taken Azura's beautiful piano music that used to fill our mornings. It's replaced comforting words with the silence of grief. This grief is overwhelming, making it hard to relate to others. Death has not only stolen my sister but also changed the way I exist. There's no one to talk about boys with or braid my hair before school dances. I'm alone in this solid house, a house meant for a family.
…
"Alora, what are you up to?"
When I open my eyes, she's standing right over me, hands on her hips, like she owns the world. I look at her, wondering if I'll ever be half as self-assured as she is. I just want to be half as amazing as her.
"Oh no," she says with a smirk, "you've got that melancholic look again."
"Shut up, Azura!" I grumble as I sit up on the grass.
"You don't usually nap in the grass, dear sister. You're usually too busy exploring the woods and the meadow. You only sleep when something's bothering you."
"Seriously, you're making me sound like a total loser," I protest, and we both laugh. "I sound like a slacker."
"Everyone deals with their troubles in their own way," she says, sitting beside me. "Maybe it's your way of escaping stress. No one should blame you for taking it easy. Some doctors might even say it's good for you."
I shake my head. We spend a lot of time sitting on the grass. I picked this spot by the pond near our home. In the summer, it's filled with wildflowers and birds. Dragonflies dance over the water, and the breeze ripples its surface.
I whisper, "I just...wish I could find someone." When I look at her, I can't help but feel envious. She's so attractive and outgoing, while I feel plain and reserved...
"Why?"
"Because...well, we're high school seniors, and I've never had a boyfriend," I stammer.
"Aloralie, I've never had one either," she smiles at me, "Ahren is more of a good friend... He's not the one, in my opinion."
I mumble, "Yeah, but at least you have options." She doesn't understand how it feels to be the quieter sibling, always feeling overlooked.
I can't blame Azura! Even if I were an only child, I'm too shy to stand out. Boys don't notice me because of my shyness.
"You and I will find the right people for ourselves," she whispers, "Alora, they'll come when the time is right. They won't be fleeting high school flings; they'll be keepers."
I mutter, "You can't be sure," too absorbed in my self-pity to notice she doesn't reply.
I wake up to a soft voice. My heart races, not from fear but from a whirlwind of emotions, like a million butterflies in my chest.
I rush to the window, scanning the area for any signs. My heart beats loudly. Thump. Thump. Thump. There's no one outside. Thump. Thump. I'm sure something was there, but maybe it was just a dream.
My bed is still warm, so I get back under the covers. Sleep eventually takes over, but I keep thinking the same thing until morning.
Who could it be out there?
El Nido, on the Palawan coast, is a small town about 180 miles south of Portland. It's technically part of Palawan, but the residents here consider themselves a unique community, which sometimes confuses census and tax collectors. My hometown is less crowded than Palawan, with houses scattered along the coast or near the forest, like mine. It's not the type of small town where everyone knows each other's second cousins, but it's hard to avoid running into familiar faces. The families deep in the forest that wasn't taken by the government when national parks were established are an exception. My dad called them hillbillies living off the grid, but I couldn't confirm his claims. The people living in that remote part of El Nido are a mystery because few venture there, as the ocean is our main source of life. "Thanks, Greg," my dad says on the phone with a client. "I appreciate your understanding... I'll call you when we're done. Goodbye." We're going to the boatyard to check the boats
I put on Azura's old black dress because I don't have any black clothes of my own. Black was always her choice, reflecting her rebellious grunge style. The dress is a vintage 1950s pencil design that used to fit her perfectly and accentuate her curves. It's a bit snug on me and falls a few inches below my knees, but it still looks good. My mom, from the doorway, smiles at me and suggests, "She'd want you to wear it with her favorite shoes." I glance at the black ballet flats on my feet and reply, "Yeah, she'd love to see me trip and fall at her own funeral." My mom chuckles, but there's a strange tension in her expression. I've seen that look on my parents' faces too often, and I fear they'll bury themselves in work before Azura's coffin is even lowered into the ground. I hope they don't make me go along with them. If I'm lucky, they'll leave me at the dock to keep watch. The place already has a manager who could use extra help. I'd gladly quit my current job if it means staying. M
Walking through groups of students in the hallway, the silence becomes deafening, drowning out my thoughts. Their hushed whispers and furtive glances follow me as I pass by. Each step to my locker feels like a march towards my own execution. Ahren is waiting for me at my locker. He opens his arms, and I gratefully embrace him, needing a moment to collect myself and find solace. "I wish they wouldn't stare," I mutter to him as I retrieve my belongings. My gaze lands on a cherished photo of Azura and me hanging on my locker door. The picture was taken during our second year when we went hiking in a national park and encountered a bear. Azura, in her "genius" moment, insisted we climb a tree for safety. I had warned her that bears could climb too, but she brushed it off. We ended up perched in that tree for quite a while, where we snapped the photo. A copy of it now resides in her locker. "I have to clean out her locker," I say, shutting it with a heavy heart and walking away. "How a
After my encounter with Laurel, I decided to skip the library. Most lunch breaks were spent eating in my car. Eventually, Ahren discovered my hiding spot, and he started joining me there from time to time. He's a good friend, but sometimes, I yearn for solitude. I just wish he'd give me some space. Zaven walks into the room and comments, "Alora, you're early," as he places his bag against the wall. "Yeah, since I haven't been doing much at home, I thought I'd start stretching early." He approaches the ballet barre and begins preparing. I reach down one more time to touch my toes before lifting my leg and resting it against the barre. I mentally count before bending forward and resting against my thigh. I'm relieved that I haven't run into Lucien again. He remains a mystery, and I'm still trying to decipher his connection to Detective Dristan. Lucien doesn't appear to have many problems, so Detective Dristan must know him well. Lucien mentioned they might be family. Zaven places a
Wind whistled in my ears, carrying the scent of rain in the air. As it tugged at my clothing, I felt the electric energy in the atmosphere dance on my fingertips. Birds flapped their wings and sought refuge in the trees. What would it be like to have such freedom, only limited by the direction of the wind? "We're heading out," a hand rested on my shoulder. I nodded, "Alright." "After work, Ahren's mom is coming over," my mom hugged me tightly. "You and Azura, always so different." "Please, don't say that," my dad interrupted as he picked up their bags. I embraced my mom, but said nothing. "Take care," I said as I grabbed a bag to help with their departure. Their destination was work. What would it be like if they were me? Free to leave without anything tying them down, not even family. I sighed and returned to the house, feeling low. They seemed to be leaving more frequently, and I couldn't help but wonder if it was due to their business or if they simply didn't enjoy having ch
"Alora." "Azura," I mumble as I turn over and open my eyes. It's chilly. The tip of my nose feels numb, and my breath moistens my lips. As I wake up and realize I'm not in bed, I scramble to my feet. I'm in a forested area, and I reach out to touch wet leaves and branches, which feel frigid beneath my fingers. Somewhere deep in the woods, a voice calls my name. "Azura?" Silence. The pine trees remain silent. I push up onto my hands and knees and glance back. I'm not far from our house, just a mile into the dense forest behind our home. Moonlight bathes everything around me, casting a brightness akin to daylight. It's almost blinding, so I shield my eyes and scan the area, trying to figure out the way home. A loud snap sounds from behind me. Birds scatter as the bushes rustle. I squeeze my eyes shut and press my palms into the ground. I have an urge to remain as still as possible, as though I could hide my head under my arms and pretend I'm somewhere else entirely, somewhere not
The black wolf, its eyes locked onto me, lays its head in my lap, and I'm paralyzed by fear. Suddenly, the wolf stiffens, its gaze drawn to the forest. I follow its gaze and find myself in an open space, unfamiliar to me. In the distance, I spot the mountains that are also visible from my home. "What are you looking at?" I mutter, briefly considering the presence of the other wolf. But it's not the wolf; it's a woman. With olive skin and loose, dark hair flowing in the wind, her golden-green eyes hold an intense, almost otherworldly quality. She focuses that intense gaze on the wolf. "Is she close?" She murmurs softly. The agitated wolf howls, startling me, and the woman takes a step back. Yet, the wolf doesn't seem to bother her much. She surveys the open space. "It will be her time. The same as her sister's." As I attempt to distance myself from the wolf, it whines and follows me closely. Its large form brushes against me, nearly toppling me over. I hug myself and close my eyes,
I've finally finished reading the books Dorothy gave me, which were initially intended for my sister, Azura. The content of these books doesn't seem unusual to me. The only one related to alternative medicine is the herbology book; the rest are primarily plant catalogs and care guides. I've returned all the books and now find myself sitting in Azura's room, staring at her bookshelf. It's filled with her favorite romance and fantasy novels. My sister was an avid theater enthusiast, and her shelves were packed with plays and musicals. However, there's nothing about plants, magic, or herbs. She never mentioned the box she left for me or the journal I found. My phone rings, and I see Detective Dristan's name on the caller ID. I let it ring. Since the day I met Lucien and Laurel in the nursery, Detective Dristan informed my parents that Azura's room was no longer considered a crime scene, suggesting that murder was no longer the suspected cause of death. I'm angry at him. I never returne