I thought a lot about my mother that night. Her eyes, her hands, the lines by her mouth when she smiled. I tried not to think about her like that too much, in memory of the smallest things about her. The things that made her my mother, the things that made her Helia, named for the sun. Things that she possessed only for me and other things she possessed only for the rest of the world. I never wanted to think of these miscellaneous things because they made her seem so devastatingly real. They made it seem like she could appear any second, walk into the room any day; like I could wake up in the morning and smell her cooking anytime or await her goodnight kisses any evening. It is terrifying to think this when I know she is departed from me. I spent a decade with her in my life. Shorter than that, really, since my memories as an infant are too hazy to truly recall. After her death I never r

The next few days passed painfully slowly. I avoided everyone, feeling like I was bursting at the seams with the secret my father had entrusted in me. I spoke to Eric only on the phone a few times and only for short intervals. I knew if I saw him in person I'd want to tell him everything, and I gave my father my word that I wouldn't. So I spent those few days staring at the blank pages of my journal and watching television, hoping my dad would decide to make his announcement soon. After five days, I decided to ask him about it. It was past ten o'clock at night, and he was in the kitchen, scooping vanilla ice cream into a bowl. "Hi," I said and he turned, smiling at me. "Hey," he said. "How was your day?" I sat at the kitchen table, resting my chin in my palm. "

I watched the snow fall for some time. It could have been a few minutes, or an hour, I don't know. A soft blanket of flurry graced itself upon the street and the houses, tickling the leaves of the trees and shrubs lining the manicured yards. The sky was grey and gloomy, a great contrast from the peaceful white continuum of the world below.My phone rang, shattering the peaceful silence I had created around myself. I slid my finger across the screen and answered."Didn't I tell you it would snow?"Eric's voice made my spirits soar and I sat up straighter, smiling. "How do you know? Are you home?""Yes, I got back about five minutes ago. I thought it was necessary to call you and say I told you so."The wind picked up outside, sending the steadily falling snow into a frenzy, swirlin

Eric appeared between the trees, angst in his eyes and his breathing uneven. A hint of relief flashed through his features before urgency overtook them again and he spoke, his voice battling his loss of breath. "Luna, thank God. I thought I'd never find you."I furrowed my brow, walking over to him. "What's going on?"He was still out of breath. "Something's happened. You've got to come with me, quickly, you've got to get home now.""Why? What is it?" My heart pounded faster, my pulse hammering among my veins as if it wished to escape through my skin.Eric swallowed, eyes meeting mine. "It's your father."Fear sliced through me like a blade, and worst case scenarios began running through my brain like a teleprompter, each thought more terrifying than the next.

Later that day, sadness and anger washed away from me and was promptly replaced with a type of numbness I could only associate with the death of my mother. Now I associated it with the death of my father as well.I took a shower and got dressed and slowly brushed my hair, watching the ends curl up again after each stroke through the thick black colored strands.Eric made me coffee and I drank it slowly, staring at the trees outside the window. The coffee was too hot and I burned my tongue. It began to rain outside again and then stopped twenty minutes later, as if the sky had decided against it.At one thirty Eric softly suggested I go home."The police are going to be there," I said. "I don't want to go and face all of this.""I know," he said quietly. "But you have to."