I flinched at the sound of my door opening and looked mournfully at my meal. Perhaps if I ignored her–

“HAYDEN!” Ember called loudly.

–she wouldn’t go away. I sighed.

Her footsteps pounded through the kitchen behind me and into the dining room. “Hayden! There you are! Where were you? I was worried!”

I swallowed another bite. “Out.”

She stomped around the table. “Out, out? No one’s seen you in at least two days! I called the–” Ember caught sight of my face and froze, her expression shifting from anger to concern.

I turned away, not wanting to deal with her at the moment.

“Are you okay? What happened? Were you mugged again?”

“Fine, nothing, no.”

She moved to stand next to me, partially visible from the edges of my eyes. Her nails tapped against the table. “You don’t look fine,” she said, demanding answers.

I angled my stitched-up arm at her, figuring she’d at least seen the red of the scab against my skin.

The drumming of her nails grew louder. “Who did this to you?”

I broke and looked up at her, feeling guilty for the fear that was plastered over her face. My shoulders slumped further down.

“No one. It was an accident at work.”

She pursed her lips, and her brow furrowed. Ember studied my body for the real story, but I stayed still, giving her nothing more to work with.

She sighed, the chair scraping against the floor as she dropped down next to me. “Why didn’t you tell us you were going on a work trip? I was really worried when I found out you were gone.”

My fork clattered to the table. “Gone? For how long?”

“How lo–it’s been almost three days! If your work hadn’t called, I would have filed a missing persons report!” under her breath, she muttered, “I tried to anyway.”

My sluggish brain sharted turning again. “My work called you? How did you know I was home?”

“Yes; your next-door neighbor called me. Lovely lady. She caught me freaking out a couple of days ago when I couldn’t find or get ahold of you. You would have known this if you checked your phone–”

“It died.”

Ember rolled her eyes. “Of course it did Mr.I-ignore-my-sister’s-texts-for-weeks,” she said, referring to a specific incident that happened a few months ago, where I’d forgotten to respond to her text.

A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

“That was–”

She cut me off with a much more serious tone. “Without your job, I thought maybe you’d run off.”

Guilt stabbed my chest. After the incident in middle school, I’d ditched my phone and run away for a day, needing the space to collect my thoughts. Our house had been too crowded, too full of things to think about. Mother had lectured me on my safety before letting it go, and father hadn’t said anything about it. Ember had been the most stuck by it and had attachment issues for years. Still had attachment issues, by the sounds of it.

Still, there was no need for her to fear that now. “Why on earth would I do that? I already have my own space to think.”

Ignoring the tiredness dragging me down, I lifted my hand and patted her on the head.

Ember bit her lip. “But you lost your job because of me…”

“And I found a better one,” I lied. It worked, and she appeared reassured.

“...Your phone really was broken?”

“Promise.”

She breathed in a deep sigh, and her stomach growled.

I shook my head in mock scorn. “There’s some leftover beef burgundy in the fridge if you want any.”

Ember pulled a face. “Is it still good? You’ve been gone at least three days.”

I looked down at my plate, calculating the date, then shrugged. I’d already eaten some anyway. “It should be fine.”

I continued eating as she plodded over, heating up her own plate. She sat down across from me. Mischief sprung in her eyes.

“You accidentally sent me the tracking information for the collector's edition of Heirs, you know.”

Our forks scraped against the plates as we ate.

“Oh?”

Ember gave me a wicked smile that ignited instant fury in my chest. My hand tightened around my fork, and I suddenly recalled at the times she’d gotten me in trouble with that same smile on her face.

“That’s how I found out you were gone. It said the package was delivered, but you didn’t say anything. I visited the next day, and the package was still on the porch.”

My hand hovered above my plate. “Did you open it?”

Ember flipped her hair over her shoulder, leaning back haughty in her chair. “Of course! Who do you take me for? I was shocked when I found two copies of Heirs!”

My response was instant. “They must have made a mistake.”

“Not according to the receipt. And then guess what I found in your apartment?” she led, her eyes gleaming with an undercurrent of suspicion. I sensed a trap in her question.

“You searched through my apartment?!”

She tossed a hand like she was throwing my protest off to the side. “You were missing. What else was I supposed to do? I was worried! Anyway, I found your drawings,” she said, something about her sentence falling flat, feeling rehearsed.

“Even if you’re worried, you’re not supposed to search my apartment! That’s a job for the police!”

“They wouldn’t listen to me. And stop trying to avoid the topic!”

“You stop trying to avoid the topic! Why on earth were you going through my stuff?”

Her smug and annoyed pretense fell, showcasing the deep bags under her eyes. “I really was worried, you know? Even after your ‘job’ called. I couldn't get a company name, and they wouldn’t tell me how long you were gone. I tried to call the number back, but it was dead. When I called the police, they shrugged me off. Told me you’d be fine.”

There was a lot to unpack there. Notably, who called her and how they knew to do so. “So you went through my stuff?”

Ember smacked her palm down on the table, rattling our dishes. “Yes, I went through your stuff! I hoped to find out where you’d gone or learn more about your new job.” Her eyes were brimming with anger. “Do you know what I found?”

“The drawings. You already said.”

“Yes. Do you know what else I found?”

She waited patiently for my answer, looking ready to tear me to shreds.

I scanned through my mental inventory, trying to think of what I had that possibly could have irritated her so much. A few minutes passed, and she delivered a crushing blow of guilt straight to my chest.

“Your wallet, your driver’s license, and your passport,” she said, hot anger brimming underneath the surface of her words. This was the trap she’d been trying to spring earlier. A trick, distracting me with the drawings, an attempt to lead me into a false sense of security where I’d unintentionally reveal something. “Your wallet, driver’s license, and passport,” she repeated, observing my reactions. “All your credit cards were in there, too, by the way. I checked”

I couldn’t think of anything to say.

“You know what else I found?”

I didn’t answer.

“Spoiled leftovers in the fridge. I know how organized you are, Hayden. You wouldn’t have forgotten your wallet and your driver’s license. You wouldn’t have kept leftovers in the fridge if they were going to spoil while you were gone. You wouldn’t have forgotten to text me and tell me to pick up the package while you were out.”

I’d thought of myself as the ‘smart one’ between the two of us, and I’d almost forgotten just how sharp my sister was.

Her eyes burned into mine. “And then I get a call from your neighbor and find you sitting here, injured, and acting like nothing’s wrong.”

She annunciated her next question carefully as if she was afraid I would misunderstand her simple words. “What. Happened?”