Chapter 1.3 Homecoming

TWO WEEKS PRIOR

Homecoming

Returning to her childhood home in Bridgewey, Michigan wasn’t exactly part of Rowan’s plan after university. But that’s what happens when you have a full-blown anxiety attack during finals, skip your exams, and book a last-minute flight home only to wind up crying in your mom’s bed in the early hours of the morning.

It had been a 14-hour flight. Plenty of time to think about what she was doing. Too much time. The weight of her decision was sitting in her stomach like a thousand sparklers. At one point, she seriously considered causing a minor security incident just to force an emergency landing. She could start over somewhere else. Anywhere. Just… not Bridgewey.

Still, she missed her mom. She missed her more than she’d ever admit to her face.

It as sprinkling when she landed in Detroit. The rain becoming heavier every mile she drove, as the distance closed between her and her hometown. She was caught in a full downpour by the time she parked in the driveway.

She walked through the front door just after four in the morning, she dropped her bags, kicked off her shoes. Aurelio, her stepdad, was sleeping on the couch. Without waking him, she climbed the stairs. Standing in front of her mom’s bedroom doorway, she realized she could finally take in a breath. She inhaled, truly and fully inhaled. As she breathed out, her grief punched her in the lungs and the tears wouldn’t stop.

Outside, the storm broke. The impact of lightning shook the house suddenly.

“Rowan? Sweetie, is that you?” Diane asked when she heard the sniffling. She didn’t ask any more questions. She lifted the corner of the comforter for Rowan to climb in. She wrapped her arms around her, stroked her back and hair, trying to steady her daughter’s breath so she wouldn’t choke. The sheets were soaked through by the time Rowan finally emptied out.

There had only been a handful of times in her life where Rowan let her feelings spill out into the real world like this.

An hour passed, maybe more. Rowan was still awake trying to regulate her breath. She wanted nothing more than sleep at this moment. 

The thunder was soothing to her and she finally began to settle. Lightning flashed again, and again, illuminating the hallway in strange pulses. She watched it like an infant staring at a mobile, transfixed by the charged silence between cracks of thunder. Diane had fallen asleep beside her, one arm still curled protectively around her.

Another flash lit up the hallway.

Someone was standing there.

Too tall to be Miranda. Too still. The figure’s gait was wrong, off, like their limbs were adjusting to gravity. Another bolt of lightning and Rowan saw a face.

Her own face.

But it was twisted. Eyes black. Hair white.

She gasped and clutched the sheet, yanking it over her face. The terror was sharp, instant. She shut her eyes tight.

Then a small voice pierced the silence.

“Sissy?”

Rowan peeled back the sheet.

It was her little sister, Miranda. Her face red. Her hair a mess.

“What are you doing home?” Miranda whispered.

“I’m home from school,” Rowan said gently, her voice shaky. “What are you doing out of bed?”

“The thunder woke me up,” Miranda mumbled. “I can’t get back to sleep. Can I get in there with you?”

“Yes, please,” Rowan said.

Miranda climbed into bed, curled against Rowan’s chest, and pulled her arm tightly around her.

Rowan held her tightly. For the first time in months, she felt warmth settle beneath her ribs.