“my lord.” martha muttered. 

“walk me through this again, cain.” dad said softly. kelsey and lewis weren’t present. we’d been called into the living room in pairs, they had given the first testimony. 

“i think lacey should, she’s the victim here.” 

“you-” martha started. her hands were clasped, breaking intermittently to gesticulate at either lacey or i with a rattle as crystal bracelets on wrist clattered.

“dear.” dad said sternly.

“i can speak for myself.” lacey said. her dressings had held up, one lined in a silhouette of crimson that stood out against her pale cheeks.

martha visibly bristled when lacey spoke, once again folding her hands into a hostile posture. it reminded me of a big cat preparing to leap, hackles raised and weight balanced. 

“go on.” 

“cain and i were reading, kelsey was being rude and i told her off-” 

“which you had no right-” martha interrupted. 

“dear!” dad cut in again. his hand moved to martha’s thigh and i could have sworn her eye twitched.  

they were still dressed in going out clothes, martha picking at lint on a black dress i’d never seen before. it didn’t play to her figure quite right. the ruffled halter draped into a pear outline that created a muffin top from the lack of shaping. her forward lean exaggerated that distention, a smooth and sleeveless top sharply contrasting against fabric already taught near the lower body. dad’s classic polo and slacks should have looked sharp, but between his receding hair and the untucked shirt he ended up looking older than he was. neat style was something a well-fed gut had convinced him to abandon, no longer leaving room for most of his dress attire. 

the silence hung for just a beat too long, martha gradually looking more irritated. dad motioned at lacey to continue. 

“as i was saying, i told her off. she grabbed my hair, ripped some out and we fought.” lacey finished. “cain broke it up.” 

“why did you let the fight happen, cain?” dad asked. it pissed me off a little that he couldn’t read between the lines, see the damage on lacey’s face, neck and arms. i would need to be pragmatic and defend myself analytically, he wouldn’t accept anything else. frustrating, annoying. especially when he was the person who had raised me to look out for her since lacey could walk. 

“the argument was between the girls. when kelsey got physical, i felt lacey was within her right to hit back.” i said. “i realized they weren’t going to stop, so i picked kelsey up. lacey was underneath her getting a black eye.” 

“kelsey says that you struck her.” dad remarked. 

“she what?” lacey scoffed. martha folded and unfolded her hands in a kind of annoyed self-soothing. was she holding back? 

“i did not.” i said through grit teeth. lewis’ anger seemed a lot more rational now. it set me on edge, made the gears behind my eyes start turning. kelsey had never made things up, exaggeration or lies by omission, yes, but never outright falsehood. perhaps she had been rougher with lacey than intended and with it being so obvious, she panicked. “i pulled her off lacey and then pushed her onto the couch, that’s all.” 

“are you calling my daughter a liar?” martha said, her tone all vitriol. 

“you’re accusing the girl who probably needs stitches.” i said, motioning to lacey. “and who has to explain to family why she has a bruised eye.” 

“kelsey has bruises around her shoulders, cain. lacey didn’t do that.” dad said. he raised his hands, fingers steepled in front of his face, and exhaled. “you expect me to believe she did?” 

“adrenaline is a hell of a drug.” i said. lacey nodded.  

the lines of the living room seemed to stretch out and pull away. details that were incredibly insignificant suddenly dropped into sharp focus. it was hard for me to keep my eyes in dad and martha’s direction; spots of blood, now an almost black purple, still dotted the carpet where lacey had fallen. the cushions hadn’t been put back in their proper places, one that had been tossed at kelsey still displaced. lacey’s voice snapped me back to the conversation. 

“i was trying to beat the shit out of her.” she added. 

“language.” 

“you little savage.” martha hissed. the telltale vein on her forehead was at full bulge and she rose in the direction of lacey. i was out of my seat ready to intercept in a second. 

“don’t you dare lay a hand on her.” 

“cain!” dad shouted. a second passed and neither of us moved. the ottoman and coffee table became a demarcation line, like a set of physical barriers that we respectively leered over. 

“do you think i’m just going to stand here while lacey gets beaten, for being beaten?” i yelled back. “are you insane?” 

“your mother is upset about her daughter.” 

“i need my father to be upset about his.” i said. my face hardened enough to put an ache in my jaw as both sets of molars ground together. 

“bob, if you’re not going to discipline them, i will.” 

“everyone, sit. down.” dad roared. martha flinched. i hadn’t heard him use that kind of commanding authority in his voice since i was little. it had lacey in her seat almost instantly, martha following with a scowl, and as she relaxed back onto the end of the sectional i let myself sink back down on the couch. he cleared his throat and continued with a heavy undertone of forced calm. “lacey, did your brother hit kelsey?” 

“no.” 

“she’s lying.” martha spoke. 

“she isn’t.” i snapped back. 

“kelsey isn’t a liar.” martha retorted. the word ‘liar’ was edged in accusation, spearing me with the vehemence put behind it. 

“somebody is lying!” dad strained. his fingers had returned to their steepled position, trembling in front of his face. martha was barely containing herself, eyes locked on lacey with a glare that oozed threat. 

“my daughter doesn’t-” 

“neither does mine.” dad breathed through his teeth. 

“your son?” martha asked, her gaze now directed at me. i felt like butter on a triple digit day underneath that stare. it was a miracle lacey hadn’t burst into tears. the room started to pull away, a vignette creeping in around the edges of my vision. 

“cain, i’m going to ask you one more time.” dad pleaded. he paused to stare me down and i returned the look unblinking. “did you hit kelsey?” 

“no. i broke up the fight, that’s all.” my voice was steady, but a tremor had started in my fingers. i struggled to contain it there, the visible nervousness quickly working its way up my wrist. 

“both of you, out. send your siblings back in.” 

“no. we don’t need to hear from them again, kelsey is traumatized enough.” martha protested. if a look of annoyance could kill, dad, lacey, and i all would’ve been struck down where we sat.  

“i believe my children.” he said. 

“you’re playing favorites.” martha dismissed. dad had a tired look in his eye like he was on the verge of buckling, his face a mix of resigned frustration and stress lines. it was an odd contrast to martha’s body language, which communicated a fury i had no intention of sticking around for. i gathered up lacey, ignoring the continued squabble, and took her to the hall where lewis and kelsey were waiting. 

both siblings gave us a wary look when we turned the corner. kelsey barely showed signs of having been in a fight. her makeup was done over and she had fixed her hair for the most part. the few scratches visible at her neckline were superficial and i couldn’t see any bruising on her shoulders like dad had described. she was moping against the wall near the hall bath, a healthy distance from lewis who was in the fetal position on the opposite side. 

“they want you both.” i said, neutral. not really to either one of them, just directed down the hall like it was a simple observation. 

“again?” lewis whined. kelsey didn’t answer, the only emotion communicated in her dirty look was hatred. they went into the kitchen and as soon as kelsey had dissappeared behind lewis, lacey was in my arms. i held her tight against my chest, as if she was a cherished keepsake, something precious i was afraid to let go of and risk losing. we sunk to the floor and tried to wrap closer around one another. 

“you didn’t hit her.” lacey whispered. 

“i didn’t.” 

“why is she saying that then?” 

“it’s probably easier to explain than saying shoved, has more impact maybe? i don’t know. she messed you up lacey, maybe…maybe she got scared and lied?” i whispered back. 

“what’s gonna happen, cain?” 

“i don’t know, but whatever it is we’re in it together.” i said. lacey whimpered and i kissed the top of her head. i didn’t want to pull away, i wanted to keep kissing her, squeezing her, loving her until every bad feeling between us was buried under a thousand good ones. 

“i’m dragging us through the mud…” she muttered, looking up.  

it was easier to force my eyes towards the scuffed-up carpeting and cracked caulking around the baseboards. even the pictures hanging in our dingy hallway interested me more than her distraught expression. family portraits, laughing at us while we clung to each other. oblong shadows cast by the lone dome light on the ceiling streaking down like saw blades. rows of photos of our step siblings, of martha and dad. grinning, sneering. a singular print of me, mom, and baby lacey alone near the doorway to the hall bath, slightly askew. i stood up to straighten it. 

“you’re trying to stand up for yourself.” i said, unsure if it was the right thing to say. my hand lingered on the side of the picture. 

“i’m so fucking angry, cain. all the time.” lacey mumbled into her hands. “when i see her i want to…” 

“i know. i get it.” i said, taking one last look at mom, at me. i crouched down and put lacey back in my arms. 

part of me understood, deep down. having to deal with kelsey after our spat on the couch, being near her, being aware of her. beyond nausea or fear or guilt there was a hate that i had kept a lid on for lacey. that lid had come loose, kelsey had pried it off, and i wondered if i’d made things worse by trying to make a point about boundaries. had there been a point? did i take things too far for nothing? surely not. this was the farthest she had ever gone, hurting lacey for attention. it was a line crossed i couldn’t ignore, but maybe she knew that and i’d played into her hand. 

after what felt like an hour, footsteps on tile cued me to release lacey. kelsey walked straight past both of us and slammed the door to the shared room, making my ears ring. lewis did the same without the angry conviction. i didn’t know what to do. we hadn’t received any instructions. after another few minutes and a couple questioning looks from lacey, i decided to just wait things out in the hallway. if dad wanted to see us, he would have made it happen. 

lacey, for her part, was being a trooper. she had lost her fight badly, we were probably going to lose this mock trial, and yet she hadn’t cried since i’d carried her up to the attic. she held her ground against martha, she made herself known to dad and she had backed me up when i’d stuck to our story about the fight. it gave me some hope that even if things were about to get worse for us, it would mean another thing that we shared rather than something i bore solely to protect her. this was what she wanted, equal shares. 

a single set of steps on the tile made me look up. dad rounded the corner. he paused to give us a solitary glance. one filled with a modicum regret, like he was already preparing to kick me knowing i was at my lowest, my most vulnerable. lacey hugged her knees on the floor. i sat across from her on the opposite wall in a similar way. something about how he just stared unsettled me. it felt like he was searching for something, anything; the same way he had been the night of the dance. 

“do you need us?” i asked. 

“i need you.” he spoke. 

“i’m not leaving.” lacey said. 

“that is exactly why.” dad replied sternly. i wanted to go, to spare her. lacey was safe, the conversation was over if i was being summoned to what i assumed was the execution verdict. i would receive the consequences, she would walk, but i knew that she wouldn’t be unburdened. 

“she deserves to be here if we’re getting punished.” i said. dad let out a sigh. he messed up his hair and pursed his lips, things so out of character it deepened that unsettled feeling to something palpable. 

“lacey, go to your room.” he warned. 

“no.” lacey said defiantly. she stood up and crossed her arms. dad could absolutely see her shaking, though he didn’t seem to account for it in his tone. 

“lacey hawthorne.” 

“you’re going to punish him for defending me and it’s not right.” she said, each word coming out in a low growl as if to ward him off. “i fought with kelsey, i’m the reason cain had to get involved, i deserve to get punished.” 

“this isn’t up for debate.” 

“it’s not…ugh!” lacey groaned, face dropping to her hands. she screamed something fierce, raw and panicked. i reached out to calm her as she roughed up her hair to the point that some of the dressings came off of her face. it was a tantrum and a crying fit all at once with frustration vented in sobs and groans. 

“do you have any idea what you’re doing to us?” i said, rising to meet lacey and putting my arm around her. 

“son…” 

“don’t fucking give me that. don’t do that shit, dad.” 

“cain.” dad said, too quiet for me to care. 

“look at her. look at her face and tell me i shouldn’t have done worse. if anyone else on earth had done that to her you would have let me kill them.” 

“cain.” dad repeated, more stern. he looked desperate, sad even. where before he might have set his shoulders and straightened, he fully sagged now. 

“i have a duty!” i shouted back, trying not to deafen lacey whose ears were close to my mouth. “protect lacey above everything. you taught me that. you drilled that into me every day since she was born!” 

“you are angry, insolent and disobedient!” dad said, projecting his voice down the hallway. 

“of course i’m angry! i live in a storage bin, i get to hear my sister being verbally abused day in and day out, beaten and bullied, torn to shreds by the environment you foisted on us!” i screamed. 

 my blood was boiling; three years of suffering all welled up. lacey’s whimpering cries galvanized what little of my resolve remained and i put myself in front of my sister like i could physically shield her from dad’s radiating cowardice. “you left us to fend for ourselves for years! fucking years! i scraped cold spaghetti out of cans for her while you slept till midnight!” 

“your mother’s passing was hard on everyone.” 

“everyone?” lacey wheezed, pushing past her sobs. “you left us!” 

“when you came back, it was with a replacement family!” i said, trying to maintain the volume and the anger. my voice was hoarse and it squeaked more than i wanted. tears were starting to roll down my cheeks and blur the image of dad; alone in the hall. the tremors in my hands had started up again. i hadn’t even noticed, too preoccupied by the infuriating responses. lacey pulled away from me, hugging herself against the wall. i took a step towards dad, fists clenched. 

“i lost…everything. your mother meant everything to me!” he stammered. 

“and yet you shit on everything she left behind!” i bellowed. it was hard to breathe, i’d never been this angry. my vision swam in the low light and i had to grind my teeth just to stay focused. dad looked stunned, shocked. he wasn’t looking at me or lacey and now that i was within a few paces of him he shrank away from me. 

for a moment i felt like i would be overcome by the virulent emotions. i wanted to grab him, shake his shoulders and scream until he understood. until the man that once lived in whatever shell was cowering from my newfound courage woke up. a shadow stretched into the space between us. i was hit by a sudden claustrophobic feeling, as if the hall had shrunk. dimly lit walls inching towards me and swallowing my bravery whole. 

“well, well, well. do you believe me now, bob?” martha spoke. she brought herself more into view, arms folded, leaning against the entrance to the hall from the kitchen. 

“i…don’t know what to believe.” dad muttered. 

“you.” she pointed directly at me. “are shipping out.” martha hissed. 

“what?” 

“at the end of the month.” she said. “you’ll be enrolled at a military academy in San Degante.” 

it took me a moment to process that, the words ‘shipping out’ hitting me on either side of the head one after the other like two heavy weights had been dropped off the roof.  

“son…” 

“what the fuck?” lacey yelled. 

“you’re getting rid of me?” i asked. 

“cain.” dad tried again. 

“you’re lucky we don’t ship her off too.” martha added. 

“i’m lucky? dad!” i blustered. 

“cain, it’s for the best. i…i can’t help you, that much is clear.” 

“i don’t need help, dad, i need breathing room. i need sleep and…” i let the statement die. i needed him to raise my sister. it was too difficult to say with lacey listening. she would interpret it wrong, think of herself as a burden. it was true, but i couldn’t let that happen. 

“no, no, no!” lacey pleaded. “don’t leave me alone here, cain, please!” 

“this is exactly what i’m talking about, bob.” martha sighed.  

“cain…you’re…this isn’t healthy.” dad sputtered. whatever was keeping him in this conversation had faded; the life had gone out of him. his shoulders slumped with the dead weight of arms that weren’t supporting themselves. martha placed herself in a similar position to me, shielding him. she crossed one arm over the other, resentment marked by how the pose was set. 

“stop acting like we’re doing this to ourselves.” i said through grit teeth. it hurt. hearing lacey break down, beg, scream. i wanted to scream too. i wanted to fight. the flood gates of my emotions had been wrenched open by dad and his spineless behavior. a burning wave of indignation at being indicted for defending my love. not only had he ceded ground until i had none left to stand on, he was complicit in sending me away. 

“it’s not up for debate.” he repeated, trying and failing to steel himself. martha looked more pleased than i’d ever seen her. 

the flood wasn’t letting up, my body being battered by debris that had shaken loose in the pit, in the back of my mind, in all the wayward places deep down. pockets of repression where, even with the strongest storm proofing, all of the most visceral emotions were suddenly coursing over the barriers i had erected and drowning me. 

lacey’s almond vanilla perfume, her golden waves, the way too blue eyes that sometimes swallowed me whole. her smile. that overzealous, triple wide beam that probably showed every tooth in her mouth with its unrestrained joy. i couldn’t stand to lose her doing something stupid, getting put away somewhere worse than boarding school.  

my thoughts became sandbags, tamping down on the breaches that shot fear and hate like geysers. one by one, memory by memory, anecdote after anecdote. how silly, sweet, and intelligent lacey was, is. i wrenched my body around, took her back into my arms, and kissed the top of her head. she held me with assurance as i stared into my father with enough hatred that he shrank back another pace. 

the rest of the night was spotty. dad and martha left us in the hallway. lacey and i cried together for what must have been another hour. eventually, i picked her up and didn’t even bother to hide that she was coming to my room. she didn’t stay, though. after recovering herself for a minute at the foot of my bed, she waved me off and left.  

i wanted to grab her hand, to cry and beg and scream the way she had for me. flashbacks to what had happened to us after the incident with the car played over and over in my mind. i needed her, more than ever, more than anything. her tiny blonde outline moved in slow motion towards the attic stairs, and when she was gone i felt a door in my heart slam shut too. 

i still remember lacey’s scream; it came through my floorboards. kelsey must not have been too happy being five feet away, and i imagine dad heard it too. pure despair. a hollow, relinquished noise that rattled me well into the late AM. it would loop in my mind on especially lonely nights as i counted the days, lamented with friends, and slowly prepared myself for what going away would mean as the month drew to a close.