66

Solana

“I don't know what to believe in anymore, Aunt Lana. What if he doesn't get better? What if the doctor tells Mummy he's gone to heaven?”

How could I answer the question, when I wasn't sure of the outcome myself? When I was losing hope in everything? How could I answer the question well enough so he'll feel better? I hated the feud the more. Hated how it'd dragged this little boy, dragged this innocent soul into it's chaos.

I stood up, suddenly feeling stripped, bare before his eyes. I glanced around, at the myriad of teddy bears and other toys, my eyes drawn to the old blue dreamcatcher on the wall, close to the clock. When we were seven, Father had bought one each for Helen and I, but I'd lost mine after a few months. Helen had always been more careful with her belongings than I was when we were young. Seeing it now brought back a whole lot of nostalgia. There were many other things; books, cards, games he'd gotten us. Our rooms had been so full of toys that we had to take som