CHAP 5 — My Sister Comes to the ICU
Kara came to the ICU the morning after we saw the footage.
Detective Ellison had asked us not to confront her.
I promised I would not.
Promises made before rage fully wakes are difficult things.
Kara walked into the waiting room holding two coffees and wearing the soft blue sweater Mom loved. Her hair was pulled back. Her eyes were red. She looked like a daughter living through tragedy.
I stood.
Michael stood with me.
Kara smiled weakly.
“Hey. I brought your usual.”
I looked at the cup.
My usual.
As if routine had not been weaponized.
“No, thanks.”
Her smile flickered.
“Emily, you need to eat. You’re scaring everyone.”
“Am I?”
She looked toward Michael.
“What’s wrong?”
I wanted to scream. I wanted to throw the coffee against the wall. I wanted to ask how she could pour something into Mom and Dad’s food, then walk into their hospital with a sweater full of memories.
Instead, I heard Dad’s voice from childhood.
When you don’t know what a person is hiding, let them talk.
So I sat.
Kara sat across from me.
“I keep thinking about your call,” she said. “Finding them like that. God, Em, I don’t know how you’re functioning.”
“Neither do I.”
She reached for my hand.
I moved it.
Her eyes filled instantly.
“Are you mad at me?”
There it was.
The setup.
The wounded sister.
The invitation to reassure her.
I did not accept it.
“Why did you ask me to grab the mail?”
She blinked.
“What?”
“You said you were out for a few days.”
“We were.”
“You weren’t.”
Her face froze.
Only for half a second.
Then she laughed softly.
“Emily, we came back early for a few things. I told Detective Ellison.”
“No, you didn’t.”
Her throat moved.
Michael said nothing.
The silence stretched.
Kara leaned back.
“What is this?”
Before I could answer, Detective Ellison entered the waiting room with two officers.
Kara looked from her to me.
Then to Michael.
The coffee cups trembled in her hands.
“Kara Parker,” Ellison said, “we need you to come with us.”
Kara stood too quickly.
“Why?”
“Because we have recovered footage from your parents’ property.”
The word footage drained her face.
“What footage?”
Michael’s voice was low.
“The old doorbell camera.”
For one second, my sister disappeared.
Not physically.
Emotionally.
The grieving daughter vanished, and something cold looked out through her eyes.
Then she turned back into Kara.
Crying.
Confused.
Insulted.
“This is insane. Emily, tell them. Tell them I wouldn’t hurt Mom and Dad.”
I looked at her.
That was the last chance she ever had to tell me the truth as my sister.
She did not take it.
Instead, she whispered, “You’ve always wanted them to love you more.”
The sentence was so ugly, so childish, so perfectly Kara, that it almost made me laugh.
Mom’s ICU door opened behind us.
A nurse stepped out.
“Emily? Your mother is asking for you.”
Kara lunged toward the door.
“I need to see her.”
Detective Ellison blocked her.
“No.”
Kara’s face twisted.
“You can’t keep me from my mother.”
Dad’s voice came from the room behind the nurse.
Weak.
Hoarse.
But clear enough.
“Yes,” he said. “They can.”
Kara froze.
Through the doorway, I saw my father sitting propped against pillows, pale and shaking, but awake.
May you like
His eyes were on Kara.
And he remembered.
