My Family Chose Her And Lost Me Forever Chapter 10
Six months later, one morning, Marcus stopped me on my way out to the site.
“Anna. Someone at the gate for you.”
I walked down to the perimeter fence.
Four people were standing on the other side of the wire.
Mom’s hair had gone half grey. Dad’s back was bent. Ryan had lost so much weight I didn’t recognize him for a second.
Ethan was in the back. He was holding a small bunch of blue flowers. The petals were curled and sun-shrivelled.
All four of them stared when they saw me.
I’d gone brown from the sun. My hair was cropped short. I was in work pants, sleeves rolled to the elbow, boots red with dust.
Mom spoke first.
“Anna—”
Her knees went. She dropped into the red dirt.
“Mom is so sorry.”
Dad’s mouth worked for a long time before anything came out.
“Come home.”
Ryan’s voice was raw.
“I told you to get out. I’m sorry.”
I looked at them.
The morning I’d left the house, nobody had come to the porch.
Mom had been buckling Lily’s seatbelt. Ryan had been at the wheel. Dad in the back.
Now they were standing on the other side of a fence, on the other side of the world, asking me to come back.
“Mom. Get up.”
I bent and took her arm.
She grabbed my hand and held on so hard the bones hurt.
“You still call me Mom—”
Ethan stepped forward. The stems of the flowers were crushed in his fist.
“Anna. I’m sorry. Can we start over?”
“No.”
He froze.
“Not because I hate you. Because I spent six months learning one thing.”
“I don’t go looking for my place in what’s left over from someone else’s life anymore.”
The flowers hung at his side. Petals falling. I didn’t reach for them.
I took a step back.
“I’m not coming home.”
Mom’s whole body went rigid.
“We’ve thrown Lily out! Her real mother won’t take her either — the school kicked her out, she couldn’t cover tuition — we’ve done it—”
“Do you — do you still hate us? Tell us what to do — tell us what we have to do so you’ll—”
“It isn’t about hate.”
I cut across her, gently.
“I have work here. I have friends here. I have my own life here.”
“What you were going to give me — I don’t need it anymore.”
“Some things, once they’re gone, they’re gone. You gave away Grandma’s bottle years ago. You can’t uncork it now just because you finally remember it was mine.”
Ryan’s fist clenched.
Mom wouldn’t let go of my hand.
“You’re all alone out here — Mom can’t stand it—”
“I’m not alone.”
I glanced behind me.
Marcus was standing at the compound gate, watching from a distance, not intruding.
A couple of my colleagues were unloading a truck. They’d clocked what was happening at the wire. They said nothing.
“There are people here who need me.”
When they left, I stayed inside the wire and watched them go.
Mom kept turning to look back at me, every few steps.
Dad had his arm through hers. His back was bent the whole way.
Ryan walked out in front and never turned around. But once, near the vehicle, I saw him lift the back of his wrist to his face.
Ethan was last. The blue flowers hung at his side, dropping petals along the whole length of the track.
I turned and walked back into the compound. Marcus was waiting with a bottle of water.
“Family?”
I took the bottle and shook my head. Then I smiled.
“I don’t have family.”
He clapped a hand onto my shoulder.
“Nonsense. Everybody in this compound is your family.”
I took the water. I laughed, once.
He pulled me back to my feet.
“Come on. We’ve got another data run before sundown.”
The sun landed hot on my shoulders.
This time, I wasn’t running away from anything.
I was walking, straight and steady, in the direction of my own life.