Sundial

by Catriona Ward

“One of our children just tried to kill the other,” I say. The reality of it sends cold fingers down my spine. “Mothers pass things down, don’t they?” Irving’s voice is soft. “The secrets I keep for you, Rob.”

No. That’s not realistic. No one escapes.

You can only do three things with danger: run away from it, fight it, or make friends with it. I don’t know which one to do.

It’s possible to feel the horror of something and to accept it all at the same time. How else could we cope with being alive?

What’s the point of it all without my sister?

“But I think even you know that in the end, it eats them alive. Everything they are.” Mia doesn’t argue. “That’s what fear does,” she says, weary.

I lash out at and punish those I fear for. Those I love. Maybe we all do.