then is not that big of a deal. But freaking out Alex is.”
Sarah shook her head. “You’re fooling yourself, Dylan.”
He closed his eyes and sighed, then took another drag off his cigarette. The breeze up here felt cool. Calming. He remembered the first time he’d been on this balcony. Just over a year ago, after he and Alex had rushed to take an overnight train to DC in response to Carrie’s call. Staff Sergeant Martin had testified at the preliminary hearing, and then called Ray that night, threatening suicide. Then he shot himself while still on the phone with Ray.
They stood outside, right here on this balcony, Ray’s eyes still red, dark circles under his haunted eyes. They’re talking bridesmaid’s dresses, he had said. Thank God you woke up.
I’m not so good at asking for help, Ray had said.
Sometimes you have to , Dylan had responded. You’re the one who taught me that.
The problem was, you could know something, and you could tell other people, but still not believe it in your soul. And sometimes Dylan just couldn’t get his mind around the fact that his two best friends were dead in two years.
He looked back at Sarah. “Sarah, thanks for your concern. I promise, I’ll be okay.” The words felt hollow, brittle as he said them.
3. Andrea. April 29
Andrea looked out the sliding glass door. Dylan was slumped in his seat, smoking a cigarette. Sarah was out there with him, gesticulating as she spoke. It was a beautiful spring day. She could tell a breeze was blowing outside, because every few seconds Sarah and Dylan’s hair blew in the wind.
She turned. Alexandra looked unhappy as she and Carrie exchanged small talk. Small talk. Final exams. Train and plane schedules. What was Columbia University like now versus ten years ago. Pretty soon they were going to start talking about the weather or something.
Their voices were like buzz buzz buzz in her ear, and for a second Andrea wanted to just throw some heavy object across the room. Something serious was obviously going on between Dylan and Alexandra—normally they were two of the most affectionate people she’d ever seen. Now they didn’t look at each other? They didn’t touch? Carrie was on the verge of falling apart every moment, and the help she got from a part-time nanny was wholly inadequate. Their mother and father were among the missing, Jessica was who-knew-where and there were armed guards right outside the condo to protect them from terrorists or kidnappers or whatever.
Yet, they sat here engaged in small talk.
She wanted to scream just to get their attention. Instead, she sat down on the couch across from them. Back straight, shoulders back, and legs crossed at the ankle, just as their bitchy mother taught her all those years ago before outsourcing Andrea’s upbringing. Then she stared at Carrie. She didn’t say a word. She just stared.
It took about 40 seconds before Carrie broke off her sentence and looked from Alexandra to Andrea.
“Are you all right?”
Andrea shrugged. She tilted her head, looked toward Alexandra, and took a deep breath. Even though she’d brought on the question, she felt suddenly frozen. A tightness in her chest, her throat closed up.
Alexandra’s eyebrows pushed together, and she sat forward in her seat, leaning toward Andrea. “Hey… are you okay, hun?”
Andrea started to speak, and found her hands suddenly flapping, the words colliding in her mouth like a ten car pileup on a two-lane highway.
“Breathe,” Carrie said, reaching out and taking her hand.
“When do I get tested?” Andrea blurted.
“Tomorrow morning,” Carrie replied.
“Why…” She stared at her sisters, her face going pale. Then she said, “Never mind,” and started to pull away.
“Whoa,” Carrie said. “Wait.”
“No, really, never mind,” Andrea said.
“Stop,” Alexandra replied. “Tell us. Whatever it is. You’re safe here. We’re your sisters.”
Andrea stood up, her eyes swiveling back and
Sarah shook her head. “You’re fooling yourself, Dylan.”
He closed his eyes and sighed, then took another drag off his cigarette. The breeze up here felt cool. Calming. He remembered the first time he’d been on this balcony. Just over a year ago, after he and Alex had rushed to take an overnight train to DC in response to Carrie’s call. Staff Sergeant Martin had testified at the preliminary hearing, and then called Ray that night, threatening suicide. Then he shot himself while still on the phone with Ray.
They stood outside, right here on this balcony, Ray’s eyes still red, dark circles under his haunted eyes. They’re talking bridesmaid’s dresses, he had said. Thank God you woke up.
I’m not so good at asking for help, Ray had said.
Sometimes you have to , Dylan had responded. You’re the one who taught me that.
The problem was, you could know something, and you could tell other people, but still not believe it in your soul. And sometimes Dylan just couldn’t get his mind around the fact that his two best friends were dead in two years.
He looked back at Sarah. “Sarah, thanks for your concern. I promise, I’ll be okay.” The words felt hollow, brittle as he said them.
3. Andrea. April 29
Andrea looked out the sliding glass door. Dylan was slumped in his seat, smoking a cigarette. Sarah was out there with him, gesticulating as she spoke. It was a beautiful spring day. She could tell a breeze was blowing outside, because every few seconds Sarah and Dylan’s hair blew in the wind.
She turned. Alexandra looked unhappy as she and Carrie exchanged small talk. Small talk. Final exams. Train and plane schedules. What was Columbia University like now versus ten years ago. Pretty soon they were going to start talking about the weather or something.
Their voices were like buzz buzz buzz in her ear, and for a second Andrea wanted to just throw some heavy object across the room. Something serious was obviously going on between Dylan and Alexandra—normally they were two of the most affectionate people she’d ever seen. Now they didn’t look at each other? They didn’t touch? Carrie was on the verge of falling apart every moment, and the help she got from a part-time nanny was wholly inadequate. Their mother and father were among the missing, Jessica was who-knew-where and there were armed guards right outside the condo to protect them from terrorists or kidnappers or whatever.
Yet, they sat here engaged in small talk.
She wanted to scream just to get their attention. Instead, she sat down on the couch across from them. Back straight, shoulders back, and legs crossed at the ankle, just as their bitchy mother taught her all those years ago before outsourcing Andrea’s upbringing. Then she stared at Carrie. She didn’t say a word. She just stared.
It took about 40 seconds before Carrie broke off her sentence and looked from Alexandra to Andrea.
“Are you all right?”
Andrea shrugged. She tilted her head, looked toward Alexandra, and took a deep breath. Even though she’d brought on the question, she felt suddenly frozen. A tightness in her chest, her throat closed up.
Alexandra’s eyebrows pushed together, and she sat forward in her seat, leaning toward Andrea. “Hey… are you okay, hun?”
Andrea started to speak, and found her hands suddenly flapping, the words colliding in her mouth like a ten car pileup on a two-lane highway.
“Breathe,” Carrie said, reaching out and taking her hand.
“When do I get tested?” Andrea blurted.
“Tomorrow morning,” Carrie replied.
“Why…” She stared at her sisters, her face going pale. Then she said, “Never mind,” and started to pull away.
“Whoa,” Carrie said. “Wait.”
“No, really, never mind,” Andrea said.
“Stop,” Alexandra replied. “Tell us. Whatever it is. You’re safe here. We’re your sisters.”
Andrea stood up, her eyes swiveling back and
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