The cold rain slashes at the windows of my family’s old farmhouse. If I remember correctly, the forecast had some heavy storms coming our way today.
I’m honestly not sure how I got up this morning, or how I’ve gotten out of bed most days lately. But here I am, in my well- worn red sweater, my old jeans, and my brown hair pulled up in a messy bun.
I clunk down the crimson-carpeted stairs and make my-
self a pot of coffee in our dusty kitchen. When Father left, there were too many things to keep up with, so regular dusting fell to the bottom of my priorities.
“Vera, sweetheart,” Mama greets me from the old oak dining room table, her voice weary and hoarse. Her long, stringy hair drapes over her pale and exhausted face.
“Good morning, Mama,” I reply, not believing my words. No morning has seemed good for a very long time.
“Vera…” Mama sounds nervous. I glance over to see her subconsciously twisting her phantom wedding ring and biting
her lip. Father used to tell her not to do that.
“What’s going on?” I down my coffee more out of habit than enjoyment.
“I scheduled a real estate agent to come over and look at the property in a couple days,” she replies tentatively.
I lower my mug and look at Mama. I see my own weariness with life reflected in her grey eyes. I understand that we can’t keep our farm—there’s no way we can keep affording or maintaining it—but understanding doesn’t make partings less painful.
I turn to the sink and rinse out the mug and pot with a distracted air. “Okay,” is all I can think to say.
“I know that this is hard,” Mama continues. “But we’ll be able to live without all of this unneeded space, and if everything goes according to plan, we can stay with your Aunt Becky until we can get ourselves off the ground a bit. I’m sure you’ll find a job—”
“Mama, please stop.” I find myself gripping the counters. Every time we talk about moving I just want to run and hide.
And I definitely don’t want to keep talking about it. My breathing speeds up.
“Darling, you have to accept—”

“I don’t have to accept anything.” I hear a ringing in my ears and I suddenly feel trapped. I need to get out of the house, where the memories of our once-intact family aren’t staring me in the face. I pull on my rain jacket and boots.

“Vera, dear, don’t go out, the weather is only supposed to get worse,” Mama says, worried.

“I’m just going to the store in town; I’ll be back.” I grab my wallet and the keys to my old musty yellow pickup truck and head out the door. I know Mama won’t follow because my truck is the only vehicle we’ve had since Father and my sister left.

I don’t have enough energy to care when the rain soaks my hair and chills my bones. I clamber into my truck and pull away through the mud. In my rearview mirror I can see the farmhouse, a constant place of refuge for me to return home over the years. But lately it hasn’t felt like home, and it most certainly won’t be once we move. Maybe I’ll call Mia again tonight and tell her about the real estate agent. Or maybe that would upset her; she can’t do anything, considering she and Father moved two hours away, and she already has been recently telling me she misses the farm. I decide against the idea.

I pull into town, feeling much calmer but not better, and take my usual parking spot in front of the rusty brick general store. I hear a dog barking further down the road, begging to be let inside and out of the rain. I miss my dog. Father took him when he left, accompanied by my younger sister, Mia. He’d always wanted Frankie to be a hunting dog, but all he’s ever been is a big puppy with no sense of direction. I certainly relate to that last part. The dog reminds me of when all of this mess really started…

“Frankie!” I open my little arms to the excited hound as I walk through the front door. He bounds around my sister and me in a frenzy, his tail a blur and his floppy ears bouncing.

Mia giggles. “I missed you!”

“Girls, I didn’t bring you back from school just to stand in the doorway,” Father chuckles good-naturedly behind us.

Mia and I laugh as we pound down the hallway, dump our school bags, and plop onto the springy couch in the living room. We chatter carelessly and play tug-of-war with Frankie, who growls playfully. I don’t even notice Mama in the armchair by the fireplace until Father speaks.

“Girls!” he says sharply. There is something in his voice that chills me, and my laughter stops as quickly as if someone

had shut off a radio. I realize Mama has her face in her hands and Father’s strong arms are around her. She must have just recently gotten back from her doctor’s visit. I feel confused. This scene feels wrong.

“Mama?” I slide off the couch to move closer.

“You two, go to your rooms,” Father commands.

“But—” I still don’t understand.

“Go!” he snarls at me, and the word hits me like a slap to my face.

I take Mia by the hand and leave in silence.

The hanging bell above the door chimes feebly but cheerfully as I step into the warmth of the store and out of the rain’s chill.

“Vera!” Mrs. Hue calls out to me in her welcoming south- ern drawl from behind the counter. The middle-aged woman and her husband, Rhett, own the place, and their kind natures always create a pleasant environment.

“It’s been too long, how nice to see you! Come on inside and get yourself dry. I hear that the storm should be getting heavier, so you be careful when you drive home! Tell me—how’s your Mama?”

“She’s fine,” I answer, wiping my boots on the mat and stepping further into the store. She really hasn’t been fine, but I’m too exhausted to say anything different.

“Y’all still planning on leaving Springfield?”

I can see in Mrs. Hue’s kind, deeply-lined face that she knows things are hard for us, but her questions don’t pry; rather they come from a place of care.

“Yes ma’am,” I simply respond, but I say nothing more, and Mrs. Hue takes the hint.

“Well, you just let me know if you need anything, honey— anything at all.”

I return her smile, weary but grateful, and turn to the shelves. As I reach for a jar of mayonnaise, Mark Dawson comes around the corner. I used to be friends with the short electrician in high school. Even though that was only a year ago, it feels like a lifetime…

Despite being seniors in high school, our group’s number one place to gather is the playground at the park. I’m sure we scare the younger kids off just by our size—and we can be loud— but we don’t do anything at the park except run around like madmen, climb trees, swing on the swing set… basically anything to convince ourselves that we’re in elementary school again, and not dealing with college applications, final grades, graduation, and all the stresses of senior year.
Kris and Dylan start throwing mulch and shrieking at each other in glee. The others mill about, chattering about things that won’t matter in a week. I hear Mark’s distinctive hearty laugh for a moment.
Someone sighs to my left and I look over at my boyfriend of two years sitting beside me on the picnic table. His blue eyes pierce my deep brown through his curtain of jet-black hair.
“Only a few months left until graduation,” he says. “Then in a few more years you’ll be Dr. Vera, the most accomplished neurologist in the country!”
I chuckle. “Sure, and then by that point Dylan will be president.”
“Hey, I’m just saying, you’re going to do great.” Leif grins at me.
Suddenly, a handful of mulch flies out of nowhere.
“Oi!” Leif leaps up, brushing mulch from his green flannel. “You know my aim is better than yours, Dylan!”
I laugh until my sides hurt as we all join in the fray. This would be one of the last days I laugh like this.
“Hi Vera.” The present-day Mark standing in front of me seems surprised and a bit curious at my appearance. Considering that I mostly keep to the farm, and that my last glance in a mirror showed me the gauntness of my face, I’m not surprised. I’ve changed a lot since we used to hang out in senior year.
“Hi Mark.” Once again, my mind is too drained for any- thing beyond the simple greeting to pass my lips.
“Listen, I’m sorry about…” Mark trails off and my brain can’t help but try to fill in the blank space. Is he sorry about Father and Mia leaving? About Mama’s schizophrenia and her giving up on life the same way that I have? About us losing the farm because her prescriptions are so expensive and we can’t manage the property on our own? About me having to give up college to stay and help? About being dumped by my boyfriend, because when my life spiraled out of control, it all became too much?
“I’m sorry about not keeping up with you after high school. Our whole friend group kind of split up, you know? What with everyone going in different directions. It’s kind of hard, but… I want to try to get us all back together sometime.”
I blink and nod numbly, taken aback by his words, but I know deep down that no matter how much he means them, they are ultimately empty. Our high school group has all moved on—we aren’t going to be getting back together ever again. Well, maybe they will, but I won’t. That life is in the past. Too much has changed, and I’ve changed.

I stumble through an awkward goodbye with Mark, collect the rest of my things, and get back into my truck before I can have any more interactions.

On the drive back to our farm, I think back to the days when I had dreams and aspirations—when I actually believed that I could go to school, become a neurologist, and make a difference in the world. When I had friends, a complete family, a dog, and a boyfriend who cared about me despite my faults. In those days, thinking like this would have caused me to cry, but today I have nothing. My eyes remain bone dry, my lip doesn’t tremble, my expression is frozen, and my body merely goes through the motions of surviving.

When I stop for gas, I notice I have a voicemail from Aunt Becky, who was checking in and wanting to know how I’ve been. It’s sweet, but I’m not sure when I’ll be getting back to her… if ever. Just the thought adds another weight to my exhaustion.

I’m almost back to our farmhouse and the sky is steadily crying but more heavily now; my windshield wipers are working overtime. Just then, my phone rings—this time I hear it. I fumble to reach for it with one hand on the steering wheel and, when I answer, I hear my sister’s voice, clearly distraught.

“Mia?” I ask in disbelief. “What’s going on?”

“Vera, I’m on the side of the road! My car broke down,”

Mia can barely get the words out through her tears.

“What are you talking about? Shouldn’t you be calling Father?” I strain to hear her reply through the rain pounding my truck.

“I’ve been driving back to the farmhouse! I really missed home, and Father’s been in a bad place lately, so I just had to get out. I’m not too far, but I didn’t want to walk all that way in the rain. Can you come get me?” The distress in her voice tears at my heartstrings. “…Please?”

“Of course, Mia—I’m coming right now. Stay on the phone and try to tell me where you are.”

As I follow Mia’s directions and try to console her, the rain intensifies, accompanied by threatening thunder and looming dark clouds. I can barely see a few feet ahead of me. My call with Mia eventually drops.

I’m about to the place where I think Mia is when lightning flashes across the sky, thunder booms, and a large oak cracks, reverberating in my bones. I scream and stomp on the brakes as the dead tree crashes across the road several feet in
front of me.
I sit there for a moment. Thankfully I didn’t hit it. All that
I can comprehend now is that I have to reach Mia; this storm is dangerous and I can’t lose her in it. Since it’s impossible to drive my truck around the fallen tree, I pull my jacket hood up and step out into the rain.
The forceful wind almost knocks me over and I can barely see where I’m going. I make my way around the oak and focus
on following the road beneath my boots. As I stumble along, the heavy raindrops pelt me with sporadic stinging memories. Father shouting, Mama crying, that dog barking in the rain, Leif shutting me out with the closing of his car door… they continuously bombard me with every step. The waves of thoughts crescendo to one conclusion: that I must get to Mia.
Time becomes meaningless, and I have no clue how long I’ve been pushing through these curtains of pouring water. I still can barely see, and I realize that, out here in the maelstrom, I’m as I’ve always been… alone.
Something in this moment hits me, and, as the lightning above me flashes, I close my eyes and finally the tears start to come. They flood down my cheeks in accompaniment of the rain, my pain mixing with that of the sky. I’ve no clue where I am, and I’ve reached the end of my rope, but at least… at least I finally feel something again.
“Vera!”
My eyes shoot open and there she is in her yellow rain jacket. I plunge into another memory.

“You’re hogging all the blankets!” Mia yanks the heavy yellow comforter over to her side of the bed.
“Now you are!” I bicker back.
We sit in my room, watching a show on my laptop, but the wifi keeps dropping out so we talk more than actually follow the storyline. That’s when we hear screaming down the hallway.
Mia and I look at each other. She has the same brown eyes that I do. The same eyes that our Father has.
“Everything will be fine,” I say instinctively. “Mama’s probably just having one of her delusions. It’ll pass.”
“I don’t want you to go to college,” Mia says suddenly.
“What?” I’m taken aback.
“You’ll leave me with them,” she replies. A single tear falls from her eyes onto my comforter.

I recognize Timber Bridge in front of me, which spans the river, now swollen agitatedly below us in the downpour, and I see my teenage sister fighting her way across the bridge towards me.
We meet in the middle and I hold her tightly, not wanting to let go.
“It’s freezing!” she yells through the roaring downpour. She’s just as soaked as I am, and we’re both shivering violently.

“Where’s your truck?”
“Back down the road!” I yell back. “Don’t let go of me!”
The wind buffets us harder as we set off back towards the direction of the fallen tree, Mia clutching onto my arm.
I know Mia is scared out of her wits, but when I see the trust in her eyes, it almost melts me. After a few minutes of miserable walking, the rain, the whistling wind, and the crashing thunder begin to subside to the point where we can talk without straining our throats.
“Why were you on the road?” I ask.
Mia pauses for so long that I think at first she hadn’t heard me. Then she sniffles. “Because I wanted to come home.”
“Why would you want to be home? You were the one who left.” I’m not quite sure where the edge in my voice is coming
from, but I feel a bitter twisting in my gut.
“You said it’d be best for me to leave. Both you and Father told me that!” Mia’s tone shifts defensively.
“Listen, you know as well as I do that Mama’s mood is too inconsistent. It wouldn’t have been a good environment for you. And I thought you were all excited about going to some other school because you hated ours,” I finish aggressively.
“Yeah! I hated that school!” Mia’s voice rises to a shout
and she stops abruptly in the road to face me. “But now I’ve been at this new school for over a year and no one likes me, I have no friends, my grades suck, and I’m so over it!” She glares at me, and I see the hurt in her eyes. “I can’t believe Father did this to us. And I can’t believe you never visited me.”
“You never visited me either!”
“You didn’t want me to!”
“I call and text, what more do you expect? Mama and I only have one vehicle since you and Father took off. I can’t leave her with nothing.”
“Oh, you mean like what you did today?” Mia’s tone drips with stinging sarcasm.
I pause, taken aback. A moment or two passes. I shake my head.

“Mia, you left me. You left me just like everyone else did. Father left, Leif left, and Mama’s a completely different person now. You even took Frankie away from me!”

“Everything isn’t about you.”

I pause again as her words hit me. I haven’t really considered Mia’s side very much since the split. Mia continues in the wake of my silence.

“I thought going with Father to a new school was what I wanted, after you two had convinced me it’d be a good idea. I could get away from all the bad memories and start over. I could pretend that what had happened… hadn’t happened.”

My heart aches for her. “I understand,” I say softly. Maybe my sister and I are more alike than I thought.

“I’m sorry, Mia.” My words are packed with meaning. I’m sorry for a lot of things.

“I am too, Vera.” Mia’s defensive stance melts and she smiles sadly.

I pull her close and we stand there for a moment, our past misunderstandings resolved.

“Come on, we’ve gotta get back to the truck eventually,” I say with a smile.

As we continue walking, I find myself thinking. Whenever we get back to the truck, I’m not exactly sure what will happen next, but I know that I need to make a change in my life. Somehow, I’ll be a better sister. Maybe I’ll be a better daughter. I’ll try to be a better friend, even if I never hang out with my high school group again. I could even help Mama talk to the real estate agent in a few days. But I can’t be stagnant anymore. I won’t be stagnant.

Just then, I hear the sound of a horn burst through the trees and we squint further down the road. It’s the Hues’ truck coming toward us.

Mia and I grin at each other in relief as they pull up next to us. We climb into the pickup and find that both Mr. and Mrs. Hue are awaiting us. Mr. Hue wastes no time in carefully turning the truck down a road that will take us a roundabout and treeless way to town while Mrs. Hue hands us bright yellow bath towels that we use to dry off.

\

“You’ve had us worried sick!” Mrs. Hue bursts into fawning over us, but I can’t get over being gratefully surprised at their presence.

“You came for us?” I ask in disbelief.

“Of course, Vera! You didn’t think we’d just leave you out on the road when you weren’t answering your phone! Y’all’s mama called Rhett and me at the store, saying you hadn’t come back yet. Well, of course we were concerned and, seeing as your Mama didn’t have a vehicle, we came out to find you as soon as the rain died down! Now, we didn’t know dear Mia would be here too, but we’re glad we could find you both.” Mrs. Hue smiles at my confused expression. “There are people who care about you, Vera, whether you believe it or not,” she says in a gentler voice.

I nod thoughtfully. I can see that now, even though I don’t fully understand it. I look over at Mia, who has now stopped shivering, and then I stare out the window as we cruise down the road. The storm is definitely over now, and yellow rays of sunlight are seeping through the clouds above us. As the scenery races by, blurred by the residual rain, I see faintly that the edge of the road is lined with bright yellow wildflowers, battered by the wind but still undeterred. Yes, things are definitely going to be different from now on, perhaps not in my circumstances, but in my choices. I’m not going to abandon my sister and Mama in the way that I’ve been abandoned. And now, even though there is a

lot that I remain unsure about, I do know that there is hope, and for me that changes everything.