Mr. Hall, I think his name was. I would peek out the window and watch how happy she’d be when he would take a few minutes out of his schedule to sit on the front steps and talk to her. They’d flip through magazines and catalogs while Mom would ask questions and he’d answer them as best as he could.
It’s how I found out about computers and the internet. They were in one of the electronic store flyers that Mr. Hall let Mom have. She hid it from Dad, but she taught the three of us everything she could figure out from the advertisements.
That’s why, when the opportunity presented itself, I sold half of the old man’s shit and got one.
The first time in town alone was kind of scary. A shellshock, I guess, since I wasn’t used to anything other than the walls that housed us for all of our lives. But I did what I had to do.
I don’t use it for base entertainment. My main purpose in trying to figure out the entire world inside this expensive, fancy, little box is to try and find Cleo.
That poor kid never really did know up from down, and it broke my heart the day Dad left with her and came back empty handed.
I know he was doing it to punish Mom, but he punished me and Skylar too by taking away our little sister.
And I’m going to make it right.
As I settle down in Dad’s old den and power the computer on, I flip open the small notebook that sits next to the mouse. I’ve been doing my best to keep notes on everything I’ve found out about where she could be so far, and I hope that I’ll be able to pin her location down sooner rather than later.
I miss that little girl.
Not that she would be little at this point, I think in sudden shock. It’s been more than ten years since we last saw each other. Another three years have gone by since I’ve been trying to get Skylar used to us being a family the way Dad would have wanted. That would make Cleo… eighteen?
A shudder goes through me as I sit back for a moment in the realization that my baby sister isn’t a baby anymore. It wounds me and fills my soul at the same time.
The pain comes from not being able to see her grow up, but the hope is that she won’t be too young for me. I know it will take less convincing with her to understand how our family loves each other, because of all the children Dad had, she was the only one that showed signs of inbreeding.
I always thought she was beautiful in her own way, though. From what I can remember, she has the same eye color as Dad, but the rest belonged to Mom. Her soft-spoken kindness and the way she wanted to make sure everyone was always happy… that was definitely the Darby in all of us.
She always did her best to put on a brave face and smile. She always wanted Mom and Dad to approve of her every move and I guess, in a way, that makes her better than me and Skylar.
I do what I do because it’s my birthright. Skylar allows it because she has no fight left in her. Cleo on the other hand? She’s a fighter; always has been. I miss her more than I can honestly put into words and I know it’s best for her to be back in the family home where she belongs.
Two
Richter
“Thank you,” I say softly as Skylar reappears for the first time today to set a cup of coffee by my notebook.
“You’re welcome,” she replies quietly. I steal a glance up at her as she crosses her arms over her chest and peers at the screen. “Have you found her yet?”
I shake my head and blow out my breath. “Not any closer than I was yesterday, but I’m trying.”
Skylar nods as she settles onto the edge of the desk, a thoughtful look on her face. “I wonder if she’s had a good life,” she muses softly. “It would be a shame to rip her away from everything she knows to bring her back here, Richter.”
“What’s so bad about being here?” I shoot back through gritted teeth. Deep breath; count to ten, don’t be like him.
She scoffs as she pushes herself away from the desk, making her way toward the door. In my heart, I know that Skylar loves me, but in my mind, I wonder if I’m doing this all wrong since she acts more like a goddamn hostage than my supposed wife.
It frustrates me to no end because I try to do the opposite of all the things I saw Dad do when they thought we were outside playing. I don’t force myself on Skylar, I try to never hit her or raise my voice to her. I know she loves me. I just want her to love me the way that I love her—the way that Dad loved Mom.
“Skylar?” I call out as I watch her open the door.
She glances at me over her shoulder, lingering in the doorway with an arched eyebrow.
“Aren’t you happy here?” I question, a wave of confusion washing over me. This isn’t turning out to be anything like Dad said it would. She seems to be sadder, emptier, and even angrier as the days go on.
Skylar bites her lower lip for a moment before dropping her eyes to the floor and walking out of the room, taking any hope of an answer with her.
Am I doing this wrong?
I let out a heavy sigh as I turn my attention back to the screen in front of me, raising the cup of coffee to my lips, and taking a sip of the warm brew.
‘She’ll be a pain in the ass at first, son. They always fucking are,’ he’d said with a tired
