Young Adult Fiction
I followed them into the living room and was met by a mass of people. My sudden courage seemed to deflate. How could I ever get this many people to leave?
Just then I heard the sirens.
Mark pulled out his phone. "Her name's Casey. She's almost four." He looked at the image on the screen for a long moment, his mouth twisted into a crooked smile. "Your half sister."
I took the phone from him and stared at the photo. A round-faced girl, smiling, with short dark hair and big eyes. My stomach was full of something much squirmier than butterflies, and my throat was getting all tight.
"Must be hard to be away from her," Mom said.
"It is," Mark said. His voice sounded funny, like he really meant it. Like he could hardly stand to be away from his precious little girl.
I sucked on my bottom lip. He'd been away from me, his other daughter, for my whole life and he hadn't cared at all.
I looked at his driver's license. He was five foot nine, 150 pounds and had blue eyes. What do you know? Same as me. I almost laughed. Funny how we could be so much alike and so different at the same time. Andrew Ashbury got everything he could ever want and I got nothing.
How did that happen? I stared at his face. What was so great about him? He was no better than me.
Miré su licencia de conducir. Medía cinco pies nueve pulgadas. Pesaba 150 libras y tenía los ojos azules. Qué coincidencia, igual que yo. Casi me dio risa. Era increíble cómo podíamos ser iguales y a la vez diferentes. Andrew Ashbury tenía todo lo quería y yo no tenía nada.
¿Cómo suceden esas cosas? Me fijé en su cara. ¿Qué tenía de especial? No era mejor que yo.
"Mark was my firstborn son," my father says, reading the words he has written. "He was a good boy and a hard worker. His mother and I were so proud of him"
But that didn't stop someone from killing him.
