“Sometimes it’s not the worst thing to lose everything. Sometimes it’s good,” said Yetu, thinking that for the first time in twenty years, she could feel the ocean now without it overwhelming her senses. She had room to think. To know what she wanted and believed. And all it had cost her was everything. “Good?” asked Oori. Her steely facade cracked, but only infinitesimally. Yetu wondered if she’d even seen it at all. She felt the brokenness of Oori’s voice against her skin, but that was the only sign. “If the past is full of bad things, if a people is defined by the terror done to them, it’s good for it to go, don’t you think?”
We aren’t like other siblings—we’re strangers living under the same roof. And talking about anything too personal feels like we’re opening doors we shouldn’t.