26-Sadie

Abuela is pissed.

And I mean slamming cupboards and talking to herself pissed.

Mom and Abuela went back and forth about the garage incident until Mom couldn't handle it anymore and went into her bedroom to sleep it off. After everything that happened, Abuela finally snapped.

After laying Sophia down for a nap, I close her door softly and pad barefoot down the hall toward the sound of Abuela's angry voice.

"Ellas necesitan moverse," Abuela says, but it is barely audible.

"Who needs to move?" I ask nonchalantly, pretending I wasn't eavesdropping.

"I want you to take your daughter and move to Puerto Rico," Abuela says in Spanish.

"What?" I ask, stunned, concerned about how angry and worked up Abuela is.

Abuela drops the spoon on the stovetop and walks over to me. She grabs my wrists and pulls me closer to her. "It is not safe for you to stay here. Not anymore. You need to take Sophia and leave," Abuela says, her voice full of fear.

"Abuela, I can't…" I squeeze her hands to reassure her.

Abuela shakes my arms. "These men are out to kill you. You need to think about your daughter and put her first. You are not safe! Not until those men are dead." Abuela pulls away and sits at the table. She puts her face in her hands and silently cries. Her shoulders begin to shake as she whimpers like she's in pain.

If I was an empath, I would die from emotional overload. Just from Abuela's simple touch, I can sense how much she's hurting and that she's afraid by the way her body trembles.

"Abuela," I say softly and wrap my arms around her neck from behind. "I hate seeing you like this. Even if we moved, they would come after me no matter where I was. Everything is going to be ok." I kiss her cheek and give her a tight squeeze.

"I don't want anything to happen to you. You, your mother, and Sophia are all I have left." She sniffs and pats my arm.

"Nothing is going to happen."

After my moment with Abuela, I had to leave the house. Emotions are running high, and I need fresh air. I didn't realize how much recent events had affected Abuela. I tried to keep as much from her as I could. Then again, she's always been good at pretending she is handling it, but I know it is a coverup from what she is truly feeling. Abuela never wants to appear weak, but she keeps forgetting that she's human and that a bit of weakness is not always bad.

Moving further into the cemetery, I walk past gravestone after gravestone until I reach Jo's. I sit cross-legged on the ground and pick at the grass. I look up to the evening sky painted in beautiful tints and shades of violet and blue. I shut my eyes as guilty tears runs down my face. Grief is a bitch. It has become a cruel companion, dragging its feet while moving relentlessly, a reminder of a broken bone refusing to heal.

I come to visit Jo at least three times a week. When I'm here, I feel closer to him. I talk to him even though he doesn't hear me, but it makes me feel better. I say the things I didn't get a chance to tell him.

I miss his laugh.

I miss how much he made me smile.

I even miss how much he pissed me off.

I miss his hugs, that were full of warmth and love.

I cry.

I laugh.

And I cry some more.

A shadow falls over me as I focus on the dragonfly that landed on Jo's headstone.

"Hey," Javi says quietly as if he is afraid of waking the dead.

I glance over my shoulder and smile. "Hey," I say and turn back to the dragonfly.

Javi lowers himself onto the ground beside me and wraps his arms around his knees.

We sit silently, listening to the crickets and cars driving by.

"How did you know I would be here?" I ask.

"I didn't."

I narrow my eyes in confusion. I ask him, "Do you come here often?"

He nods. "About once a week. I had some news to share with him before I came to talk to you."

"About what?" I whisper.

"We got them, Sadie."

Javi tells me they had enough intel to move in on the Romano brother's operation and take them down. They seized over 1.5 million dollars and confiscated many illegal drugs, including cocaine, fentanyl, and heroin. Unfortunately, several agents and police officers were killed in the explosion. The brothers were crazy enough to arm the building with explosives. The brothers were confirmed dead at the scene.

You'd think I would be celebrating that the men responsible for my brother's death are gone for good, but it won't bring Jo back. I'm happy he got the justice he deserves, but it doesn't fill the hole in my heart.

My brother is buried six feet underground, and I'm still alive.

As I said before, survivor's guilt is a bitch.

"Jo loved you very much. He would've done anything for you if it would keep you safe."

I know.

"I realize I'm not Jo, and I can never replace him, but he trusted me enough to look after you. I will keep my promise to him."

Turning to face him, I ask, "What promise?"

"That I will be whatever you wanted me to be as long as I kept you safe."

I wipe the stupid tears from my face and shudder a breath. Even in death, my brother is still looking out for me.

I guess Jo didn't break his promise after all.