Micah heaved an exhausted sigh and covered his eyes. “Sorry, she showed up and was causing a scene outside, so I had to let her in.”

“No need to apologize,” I said, heading into the apartment. Micah’s hand shot out, and he yanked me back. There was alarm in his eyes, like he was scared to let me inside.

“I don’t think you should see this,” he whispered, the fear bubbling in the back of his throat.

I gently pulled his hand off my arm and raised it up to kiss his palm. “You trust me?” Micah pulled his bottom lip between his teeth and nodded. “Then I ain’t going anywhere. Whatever’s inside, there isn’t anything I haven’t seen or done before.”

He allowed me to come in just as something crashed against a wall, and he practically sprinted toward the sound. I looked around and shook my head at the disarray Ada had left in her wake. It wouldn’t do any good to start trying to straighten things up now, so I went into the kitchen to find something to do while I waited out the storm.

“I can’t believe you got rid of my things,” Ada said, sounding on the verge of tears.

“As I’ve said before, I didn’t get rid of your things. I put them in storage,” Micah said with an exhausted sigh that made me wince. I’d heard that same tone out of my own brother, like he knew if he gave me any more rope, he’d only be hangin’ himself.

“Yeah, and you didn’t tell me,” Ada said, anger picking up some gas again, a cue for another blowout about to happen. I opened the cupboard where Micah kept his glasses and pulled out two mugs.

“Ada, how am I supposed to tell you when you leave me on read and turn off your location? Can’t you see I’m not trying to fuck you over? I want to get you help so you can get better.”

“No, what you want is for me to be someone I can’t be anymore. You say you love me, but you don’t. You love a ghost, Micah. That’s what you love.”

“That’s not true, I do love⁠—”

“You don’t. You think I wake up and want to be like this? You think I want to go work a job I hate and push through my shift so I can get loaded again?” Ada’s voice shook with tears. “It’s not that I want it, Micah. It’s that I can’t stop.”

“You can, Ada, but not by yourself. Please let me help you,” Micah said, his voice insistent.

How many times had I heard that exact line? More than I could count. And the fact that this person who meant so much to me was stuck on the idea that it would be better for Ada if she went to rehab again made my stomach churn.

He really didn’t get it. If he couldn’t see how fucked that logic was with someone who was an active user, how could he understand my own recovery?

The front door slammed hard enough that the mugs shook on the counter. Micah was at the front door ready to bolt after her, but I managed to get in front of him and block him.

“Let me go talk to her,” I said, tilting to the side when Micah tried to get his hand on the knob. “Hey, your sister isn’t gonna listen to a single word you’re saying, feel me? I told you, whatever she’s doing, I’ve either seen or done myself.”

Micah stepped back his hands up in surrender. “Fine. I’ll go clean up the mess she left behind.”

Ada hadn’t gone far. I found her sitting in front of someone’s car, typing furiously on her phone. As I walked closer, she jumped, hiding her phone under her thigh before her eyes narrowed at me. “I swear to god if you don’t go away, I’ll start screaming.”

I stayed where I was and raised a hand. “Hey, I ain’t coming any closer. All I ask is you listen for a sec, and you ain’t ever gotta hear from me again.”

The suspicion in Ada’s voice was heavy when she said, “Fine. You have three minutes before my ride show up.”

“You can go about and do whatever it is you wanna do. But if you’re in a situation you can’t get out of, how many numbers you got to call?”

Ada raised an eyebrow. “What the fuck does it matter to you?”

I squatted so that we were eye level and shrugged. “Consider me curious. But I’d bet good money that your options are slim after Micah.”

At this, Ada turned away, her arms twitching. “You’re wasting your time coming out here trying to lure me in with sugar and lead me to a trap. I know guys like you. You’re a dime a dozen.”

“Naw, I ain’t one of those dudes. I know all the alleys you visit, all the places you wake up at, wondering how you got there. I know the people you hit up when you need a fix and how good it feels when you get it,” I said. Ada’s back stiffened, and I knew I had her attention. “So, when shit gets real, you wanna be able to call me or not?”

“Screw it,” Ada said, with a shrug that looked too sharp for apathy.

I only got a chance to give her my number before a truck on the most obnoxious-ass lifts came barreling in, flashing its brights at us. Ada scrambled upward, jogged to the truck, and got in. It did a sharp U-turn that nearly ripped apart the bumper of another car, tires squealing away.

When I returned to the apartment, there was a small stack of boxes in the living room. Micah stood in the kitchen, his hands braced on the counter, head hanging low.

“Sorry you had to see that,” he said, not looking up. “She’s always been a force of nature, but now she just blows through and leaves destruction behind.”

“I get it.” I looked at the stack of boxes, knowing it was filled with whatever was left of Ada’s things. “She’s not the first to do it and unfortunately won’t be the last. You’re not alone.”

Micah nodded, grabbing a glass and filling it with water. He drank it until it was finished and put it in the sink. When he turned around, he smiled weakly and said, “I know this is shit timing, but my parents invited me to the dinner they’re hosting at their place, and I was hoping maybe you would go with me.”

I froze, not sure what to say. I had no desire to get in the middle of his family drama. I’d seen enough to last me a lifetime. But I absolutely wanted to be there for him no matter what he was facing, so I made myself relax. “Sure. Just tell me when.”

MICAH

Growing up, I believed our house was a magical castle with impenetrable walls where Ada and I could be whatever we wanted to be. As we grew up, our paths diverged, but the connective tissue between us remained. Standing outside that same house, I didn’t see a citadel. I saw a place trying to hold strong through the cracked remains of the battles it had held.

As much as it pained my parents, I avoided coming here where those wonderful memories of Ada permeated the air. It was why I’d purposefully showed up a little later than the start time: so we didn’t have to stand around and engage in awkward conversation. There would be enough of that already.

I rolled my shoulders in preparation. All I had to do was go in, eat some food, make nice with some people, and leave.

“Hey,” Nik said, resting his hand at the base of my spine. “I won’t be upset if you don’t want me to meet the parents.”

My stomach sank. I didn’t want Nik to meet my parents, but not in the way he was thinking. He’d already seen Ada in one of her worse rampages yet, and now I was leading him into a bunch of shit that he didn’t deserve to be around.

“That’s not it. They’re gonna love you. It’s me I’m worried about. Ada’s always a point of contention.”

Nik hummed in understanding, running his hand up and down my spine. “Well, I’m not gonna bounce if things throw down, so you don’t have to be worried about that.”

I kicked my heel into the sidewalk. “I’m not going to make a scene, it’s just—there’re a lot of people here who knew her from before.” I shook my hands to stave off the prickle in my fingertips. “All right, let’s go.”

The backyard dazzled with lights and tiki torches, tables of food spread out on the deck. My parents had always thrown parties when the weather was warm enough, surrounded by old friends and colleagues. I’d always stood out against them like a sore thumb, not interested in talking about futures in corporate worlds or retirement funds.

Ada used to find an excuse to come in and pull me away when the conversations turned to those topics. Now I had to figure out how to avoid them on my own.

I searched the crowd for my parents. Mom spotted us first and started walking toward us, her summer dress flowy around her knees. She was holding a glass of red wine, her usual go-to for gatherings like this. On the outside she looked ethereal, but I knew the turmoil that lived underneath. It always showed in her eyes.

“Ah, you did decide to come,” Mom said, lifting an arm for a hug. She rubbed her hand along my neck in the way that only she did, and I melted into her embrace. It’d been too long since we hugged each other, and I took advantage of it, pretending for one moment things were normal.

“Thank you,” she whispered in my ear before pulling away.

I swallowed past the tightness in my throat and forced a smile on my too tight lips. “No problem.”

Mom looked to Nik, and I said, “Mom, this is Nik.”