“As soon as I walked in the door, this toddler, not a stitch of clothing on him, runs up and hits me in the shin with a big wooden spoon. Laughs like it’s just the greatest thing in the world and then runs away. That’s how I met Gabe, and for the life of me I still can’t figure out how Diana ever finally convinced that child to put some damn clothes on. Course, then I heard a scream coming from upstairs...”

  Diana is in the master bedroom. She’s managed to lower herself into the tub in the bathroom. Her swollen belly rises up out of the shallow water as do her parted knees. She grips the sides of the tub, knuckles white. Sweat soaked hair sticks to her shoulders, and ripples of pain tear her open. Fear beats wild in her chest. Not just because she’s giving birth, but because the thing inside of her half belongs to the enemy.

  “The water was bloody, but everything was fine,” Dr. Lee is saying. “The baby’s head was already cresting, so there wasn’t much I could do except catch. Diana was in a daze, so I gave you a nice smack on your rear, and you let out a yell. As healthy a babe as I’ve ever seen. Your cries must have come through to Diana, because her eyes shot open, and she reached out for you. I put you in her arms, and the first thing she did was turn over your palms and press her thumbs across them. You were wailing, hungry…”

  Her thumbs probe my palms. She doesn’t know yet if I’m human. For nine months she carried the child of her husband’s killer—the angel who violently raped her—in her womb. She fed me of her own body, endured my kicks, the hormone cocktails I mixed up for her…and she didn’t know for sure what I was. Oh god, how did she do it? Why did she even bring me to term?

  “Whatever she was searching for,” Dr. Lee continues, “Diana found her answer, because suddenly she was crying, kissing you all over your face. That was your welcome into the world.” Dr. Lee’s eyes, the lines etched in his face, everything about him seems tired. He says, “Best thing she ever did for you was give you up.”

  “What about Tarren?” I ask, only because I have to tame these wild images in my head. “Where was he?”

  “Tarren was hiding under his bed, hands clasped over his ears,” Dr. Lee answers. “I couldn’t get him to come out. I thought about calling child services on Diana. Giving birth like that was an insane risk. You could have drowned in that water if she had passed out. There could have been a complication. She could have orphaned her children.”

  “What stopped you?”

  “I’ve seen a lot of abused kids in my day, and Diana was barely holding herself together, but she took care of her children. I visited her often over the next few days. The kids were clean, well fed, and well loved. She was always putting Gabe back into his clothes, pulling the twins into her lap, and helping them read passages out of The Odyssey. So I gave Diana a chance to explain. She told me everything.”

  “Oh.”

  Dr. Lee’s frown digs deep into his face. “Don’t get that bleating sheep look.” His aura flicks, and I tense. “Diana was a riddle wrapped in a mystery inside a block of stubborn bigger than the moon. She was the perfect hero, but that made her a lousy mother. Cold. Driven. A Charybdis that sucked her children down into the depths of her vendetta.”

  “You don’t approve.”

  “Of course not. Diana loved those boys and their sister, but she put them on a path of pain. A path that will lead them each into an early grave.” Dr. Lee’s gravelly voice is filled with bitter notes.

  “It was their choice,” I object meekly. “Diana let them choose.”

  “No,” Dr. Lee shakes his head. “She didn’t do it on purpose, but there never was a choice.”

  “I thought you were her friend.”

  “I was.” His damn eyes won’t flinch. “Caring about her, caring about her children is…” He stops, and his eyes drift past me to the locked closet on the other side of the hall, “…the burden of my life.” He sighs and presses two fingers against his left temple. “Diana got cancer. Wouldn’t stop for one minute to get the chemo she needed. Kept fighting the good fight until it killed her. Tammy’s dead, Tarren’s broken, and Gabe will get there soon enough.”

  “Don’t say that.”

  “And now you.” Dr. Lee’s voice softens. “The one who got away didn’t get very far at all.” His energy brightens along the edges, pale yellows of frustration. “You were born twenty years ago today. Happy birthday Maya.”

  I am getting to my feet, but I sit back down. I put my face in my hands, close my eyes, and stare into the hazy black. My birthday is November 23rd, the day when Karen and Henry formally adopted me. Of course they wouldn’t have known the real date.

  “Tarren and Gabe brought you over here tonight so you could learn who you are. Where you came from.” Tones of gentleness sneak into Dr. Lee’s voice.

  It’s a funny thing for him to say. How can I ever know who I am when I’m two completely different beings locked in constant conflict? How can I know where I came from when I spent my whole life coming from somewhere else? Being someone else? And there’s still Grand’s burning fingerprints smeared across my DNA. The double helixes of my personhood zipper up his evil with Diana’s heroism, if she was even a hero at all. It is all too big, too much, too slippery.

  I get up to my feet, shaky. “Let’s, uh, get back out there.”

  The doctor stands up, and I hear all the little pops and cracks of his joints, the sigh of pain that he keeps tight lips over. He takes slow steps toward me and slips his arm through my elbow. I brace myself against the touch of his energy.

  “You be good to those boys, especially Tarren. They have so little left.” Dr. Lee’s voice is rough as gravel. He leans against me as we start to walk. He weighs almost nothing.

  I should look him in the eye and say, “I will,” all choked with emotion. But I don’t. I gaze down and bite my lip.

  “I’ll…I’ll try,” I say, because, let’s be honest here, I can barely hold myself together, much less go around spreading joy and love throughout the land. I am a danger. An albatross. The dead kind. The kind that sinks ships.

  Chapter 7

  “Home sweet home,” Gabe crows as Tarren pulls the SUV into the driveway. Gabe’s more than a little toasty, and I try to ignore how his energy loops in bright, sloppy ellipticals around his frame. Tarren is usual quiet self, and I’m…I’m just numb.

  As soon as we stop, Gabe turns in his seat to look at me. “Okay Maya, you can’t go anywhere. We have stuff for you.”

  “Stuff?”

  “Let’s go inside first,” Tarren says to his brother.

  “Yeah, course.” Those playful green streaks light up in Gabe’s aura. We get out of the car, and he chants, “basement, basement, basement,” as we walk toward the house.

  “Do you want any water?” Tarren asks me when we get inside. We look at each other, and there might be just a smidgeon of sympathy in his face.

  “No, I’m fine. What’s going on? Do I need Alpha 5 clearance?”

  “Come on.” Tarren follows his brother down the stairs. The basement air is cool and forever holds a smell of damp cotton.

  Gabe strokes his Keira Knightley cutout and murmurs, “Hey baby,” as we move past the exercise equipment, the scuffed pool table, and the stained frat boy couch.

  “To the Fox Cave!” he shouts dramatically as he swings open the door to the small storage/planning room.

  “Oh wait, never mind. Don’t go in yet. I have something to say first.” Gabe pulls the door shut and stands in front of it protectively. “Don’t look at me like that, I’m fine,” he says to Tarren.

  “By all means.” Tarren takes a step back so that the three of us make a lazy triangle.

  Gabe drags his bangs out of his eyes, but as soon as he moves his head they fall back into place. “Okay, so Maya, we know that you’ve been through a lot,” he starts.

  I have no idea what’s going on here, but already I feel my skin prickling.

  “And we hope that, ah, that you’ve started to feel at home here. I know that we’re not so great and everything. I mean, I’m pretty awesome, but Tarren well, total buzz kill, right? He comes with the house though. I checked the original contract and we’re stuck with him.” Gabe grins at his brother. “But, anyway, we hope you’re happy here. Well, maybe that’s kind of…look, we know that you’d rather not be here, be with us, but since you are, we hope that you’re okay with that.”

  The silence stretches.

  “Oh,” I say, because I am absolutely brilliant.

  “Yeah, I mean it sucked…well, wait, no. One more thing.” Gabe looks down, gathers his courage, then meets my eyes. “Maya, I’m glad you’re here. You’re funny and sarcastic, and you actually clean things, which is awesome. Me and Tarren, we’re lucky to have found you.” A flush creeps up his neck, but Gabe presses on. “And it’s a long and dark road ahead, and shit, but uh, I’m glad we’re on this road together. Family is what makes everything bearable.” He pauses and tucks his bangs behind his ear. “Was that good?” he asks Tarren.

  “Yes,” I say, “it was beautiful.” And it was, because as Gabe spoke his clumsy words, lavender threads infused his entire aura, and this—I have learned—is the color of his trust, of his acceptance. The color of his love. You are beautiful, I think but am way too much of a coward to say it out loud.

  Instead, I whisper, “thank you.” I mean it. I really mean it. Sometimes Gabe makes me believe that everything will turn out all right.

  “Happy birthday Maya,” Tarren says next to me. I look up and try to find the same feelings in his aura, but he keeps a tight rein on his emotions. That muddy blue energy lies low across his frame, moving in slow twitching tides that tell me almost nothing.

  “Okay, come on.” Gabe opens the door to the Fox Cave. Inside, a huge cage on wheels stands in front of the table. It is filled with colorful plastic tubing, toilet paper rolls, wood shavings, and little ramps that go up to multiple levels.

  “This, my friend, is the Super Pet Delux Multi-Level Manor House,” Gabe says proudly. “I figure you can keep a whole platoon of rats in here. Breed ‘em even, if you want. That way we don’t have to keep making trips to the pet store every couple days.”

  “Wow,” I say. This is kind of funny, but not really. My own personal rat gulag to supply me bodies for my insatiable murderous rampages. The shame wraps around my throat and gets a good choke hold going. I want to kick the thing over, smash all those colorful plastic tubes into bits, and then dissolve into a weeping mess.

  “Thank you Gabe.” I manage to keep my voice level.

  My brother beams. “We’ll go pick up our first inmates tomorrow,” he says. “Oh, I put it together, by the way. The whole thing.”

  “Gabe of all trades,” I mutter, and he laughs but doesn’t remember that I’m repeating his own joke.

  “This is…something for you,” Tarren says and hands me a slim package neatly wrapped in silver paper. I hold the present for a while, running my fingers across the folded edges.

  “Thank you,” I say, because I know that there isn’t a speck of wrapping paper in this house. Tarren must have gone out and bought it. Just for me. And cut it and carefully wrapped it. I know that Tarren can be strangely thoughtful sometimes, but it still always surprises me when he is.

  “You haven’t opened it yet,” Tarren says.

  “Oh.” I pull the paper apart, and it yields a box for an Amazon Kindle e-reader. “Oh,” I say again, flipping the box over. An Amazon gift card is taped to the back.

  “Dude,” Gabe whistles.

  “It’ll be a lot more efficient for travel,” Tarren says, and then adds “I know you’ve gone through everything on the bookshelves upstairs.”

  I tuck the box under my arm. “It’s very thoughtful,” I say. We stand there for a while. All of us are uncomfortable. No one dares instigate a hug.

  “I didn’t even know it was my birthday,” I say lamely.

  “Yeah, we didn’t get you a cake or candles or anything, but it’s not like you could have eaten any of it anyway,” Gabe says. His smile falters when Tarren throws him a look. “Oh, sorry.”

  “It’s okay, I’m just tired,” I say. “Thank you both. It means a lot. It does.” But I am having trouble focusing, because on my last birthday Karen came up to school and took me and Ryan and some of our friends out to dinner. They made me wear a stupid little crown, and despite my protests, had the waiters sing me happy birthday and deposit an ice cream Sunday on my place setting. Everyone gave me gag gifts except for Karen who got me vitamins, fluffy towels, and a $200 Visa gift card.

  That night Ryan gave me a matching topaz necklace and earring set and painted messy flowers on my legs and stomach and breasts with body paint. I thought it was crazy romantic, even if I’m pretty sure he got the idea off the Internet. We both woke up the next morning with paint smeared all over our bodies. Then we had our first experience with slippery shower sex.

  Without realizing it, I’ve turned away from my brothers and am now marching up the stairs.

  “Was this a bad idea? She looked kinda freaked,” Gabe whispers to Tarren as I reach the top of the stairs.

  “It’s been a long night,” Tarren says, demonstrating his fondness for noncommittal statements.

  I keep going, through the kitchen, through the living room, and up the stairs to the top level. My strides are fast, but I don’t run and I don’t slam the door closed when I finally make it to my room. Diana’s room. I lean against the door and hold my breath until the light starts getting bright in my eyes. Then I go into the bathroom and stare at the tub. White knuckles clutching the sides, panting breath, pink water lapping at her thighs, two hearts fluttering out of sync.

  “I am twenty years old today,” I say. I get inside the tub and tuck my knees to my chest. Rock back and forth. I stay in there for a long time, but I don’t cry.

  Chapter 8

  Gabe is good to his word. The next day, he and I jump into the cab of his blue Ford truck and rumble into town. I wait in the truck while Gabe buys the rats. I’ve quickly learned never to enter a pet store or animal shelter. Animals can somehow sense my “otherness,” and they break into spasmodic barks and growls and chirps whenever I get within their vicinity. Just one more delightful side effect of my change. It’s amazing that my eyes don’t intermittently blaze red.

  I convince Gabe that we should roam around town a little bit. Tarren would have objected on two grounds. He doesn’t like me near other people unless absolutely necessary, and the idea of doing anything without a strict purpose would probably give him hives. Gabe, however, is hip to the idea and so we wander.

  Farewell, Colorado is an old, sallow dump. It’s there, and that’s about the best thing it’s got going for it. In the late fall, when the air is cold enough to threaten snow, everything takes on a hoary gray hue, and the colors lay flat and unassuming across the landscape.

  There are a few little strip malls that we can walk to from the pet store. I follow Gabe through the aisles of a GameStop until I get bored. Then I head over to the used clothing store across the street.

  I’m still technically a missing person, but the police called off the search for me a while ago. The news coverage of my disappearance and my desperate parents didn’t even get much play in the West. Still, I’m terrified of being recognized. Today I’m wearing sunglasses and a black knit cap, but I feel exposed, vulnerable. Tarren’s paranoia must be rubbing off on me, because as soon as I step inside the store, I automatically stake the place for cameras and memorize the swiftest routes to each exit.

  A single clerk stands at the counter. She’s got a large mole on her chin and a blue-green aura that brightens as she greets me with a smile. I give her a short nod back and then plunge into the aisles. The store is small but well organized. There’s sort of a funky odor lingering over the merchandise, but I get used to it after a while. I discover cool checkered sneakers, a purple headband that maybe I’ll wear if I’m in a weird mood, two sweaters, and a brown and blue nylon jacket that will work with this weather.

  Then I see a brown duster hanging in the men’s section. I pull it out and search for stains or holes. The coat is clean and fantastic and utterly perfect for Gabe. I glance furtively at the door, but he is nowhere in sight. I pay for my purchases, nearing the end of the $150 prepaid credit card Gabe gave me last month. I’ll have to ask him to put some more money on it if he can. Gabe doesn’t tell me much about our financial situation, but I think things are pretty tight. The boys are always careful in buying supplies, and we usually stay in cheap motels when we travel.

  The lady with the mole and the blue-green aura folds up the duster and double bags it on my request. I’ll have to think of some grand presentation.

  After a short while of wandering, I find Gabe in a RadioShack looking at some sort of router configuration. Somewhere along the way he has come into possession of glowing plastic devil horns, which he wears on his head.

  “It’s amazing people pay retail for this stuff,” Gabe says, scowling at the price tag. “Hey, I got Lords of Darkness IV; prepare to be fire-balled into oblivion!” Gabe holds up a video game box on which a ridiculously-chested heroine swings a glowing sword at a huge goblin creature. Her tattered blue dress struggles mightily to shield her private parts.

  “You just bought that because her boobs are about to pop out,” I tell him.

  “Well, if her clothes are in this shape now, I figure she’ll have to be naked by the end of the game.” Gabe gives me a raunchy grin.

  “You got hosed by some marketing intern. That game probably sucks.”

  “As long as she looks like this the whole way through, I won’t even notice.”

  And this is the way things are between us. Comfortable. Teasing. Gabe’s aura always follows the expressions of his face; jumping up when he laughs; flooding with green streaks when he thinks he says something especially clever; and dimming down into pale lavender hues when we fall into those reflective, quiet moments together. It’s easy to believe we’re just a normal brother and sister, that I’m wearing these gloves as a quirky fashion statement.