We Didn't Make It After All

Chapter Thirteen

"How do I know I can trust you?" I breathed out, my grasp on the doorknob tightening. A callous breeze swept in through the barely open door, enveloping me in its cold. It was difficult to pinpoint just what was more unsettling: the possibility of Ezra being in danger or Alex being the one to deliver the news.

"Come on, Narnie," he pressed, his face stringing with concern. "Have I ever done anything to wrong you?"

"No, but—"

"I get it," he continued. "You're just being loyal to him. He told you that I betrayed Lara like he always does. Some sob story about how I moved on with Larisa without grieving for her. I know this, Narnie, which is why you need to believe me when I say that the wanker doesn't know half of the truth himself."

"Alex..."

"Just let me in," he pleaded. "Just for a minute, for his sake."

I opened the door a little wider, though not without vigilance. "Fine. For his sake."

"Yes, Narnie, for his sake."

Without another word and yet a thousand reservations, I motioned for him to enter. The usual ten steps to the living room seemed eternal. I saw a note Nana had left in the table saying she was off to Trader Joe's for burrito ingredients. Out with Maya. Twenty minutes tops, dear. Xoxo.

The sound of Alex dropping an envelope on our tea table in a rough, unsettling cacophony drew me back to the room. "I'm sure Ezra told you about Clara?"

I nodded slowly. "His sister, right? His dead sister?"

A moment of recognizance crossed his face. It was as if that was what he had believed too, but was suddenly on a mission to prove all of us wrong. "Open it. Go on."

I picked up the large yellow envelope. Shipped three days ago from San City in priority shipping, with stacks of paper tucked inside. I picked up the first of the many.

Al, it read in a distinctively cursive handwriting.

I am writing to you with a heavy and uncertain heart, hoping that you haven't forgotten me after my alleged death. I wouldn't blame you if you have because...well...you deserve to move on. As far as anyone is concerned, I am as good as dead, but I need you to understand that that man did not kill me that night. He threatened to do something worse...I will leave the details to your imagination in hopes that understanding me will come easier to you then.

Sienna decided to tag along with me. Sol's baby-by-eleven-minutes sister—you remember her, right? Sol, that sweet, understanding girl that Micah wrote a hundred songs about. Sienna was there that night with me when it happened and we're here together gathering evidence for our justice.

I am writing to you with a cause. I am horrible, I know, and I'm sorry. I wish everything was better for us and that I could tell you everything—but I signed a dumb NDA because the lawyers didn't want us spreading risk.

I'm worried sick about Ezra. I heard he's run away from Uncle Edem's. He'll be in Mama's caravan, maybe in the woods, under that tree we'd go to to smoke a joint. Keep an eye on him, alright? I love him so fucking much. God, he must be in pieces. Just keep him on track...make sure he doesn't break too many hearts because he's emotional. He's a big boy.

All of this is temporary. I'll be coming home soon. I love you.

With love,

Clara

I looked up from the letter to find Alex's anticipating gaze. "Clara is...alive?"

He nodded. The envelope carried all of Clara's letters, dating from the one I had just read, postmarked in August, to today. After all this time⁠—after all this grief⁠—she was alive? And Ezra could wake up one morning breathing the same air as his sister? Maybe the universe was not so cruel after all.