When I wake up, the only other person awake is Hannah.

"Hey," she smiles from the stove. "You're up early."

I nod, not looking at her. "I slept better, I guess."

A slight pause. "Well, you did have an all-out war yesterday with Kate, Nathan, and Clara."

I nod. "Yeah. That was fun."

Another pause. This one feels a little heavier like Hannah wanted me to say something else. She shuts off the stove, the click piercing the dead air between us. She joins me at the table, placing a plate of pancakes in front of me. I mutter a thanks as I pull it towards me, drowning the pancakes in syrup.

Hannah clears her throat. "So... did you have any plans today?"

My eyes flicker to her. "No. Not really. Why?"

"I just remembered that neither of us has gone Christmas shopping yet." Oh. Right. That's a thing... "We can go after we eat breakfast. Maybe we'll make it back in time before Kate wakes up and tries to snoop."

I nod, turning my attention to my breakfast. "Sounds like a plan."

I feel Hannah's eyes on me. They stay on me the entire time we're eating as she asks questions about Nathan and Clara. Every little thing I say makes her eyebrow twitch. I don't know what about my answers are wrong, so it gets to the point that I stick with one-worded answers if I can. When I'm done eating, I don't hesitate to head to the sink and clean my dishes if only to take a moment to breathe.

I know Hannah is scrutinizing every little thing because she's worried, but I don't see why she has to be so critical of Nathan and Clara. Especially since they're so nice and caring. I thought I made that clear, and I thought Hannah would've seen it for herself yesterday. But I guess it's not enough for Hannah to get it.

After Hannah's dishes are clean, she drives us to town. She asks me for my opinions on different stores, but I'm not really paying attention. I count my breaths and watch the scenery go by. If Hannah notices—and I'm sure she does—she tries her best to act like I'm not doing it and keeps pointing out stores.

"How about this one?" Hannah asks, pointing out a small storefront. Varies is in a red italicized, curly font above the glass double doors. "It looks okay, right?"

I nod. Hannah parks in front of the store, and we get out of the car. I follow her inside, and the man behind the counter glances up from his book. He waves at us before going back to it.

I glance around, taking in the store. The lights are dim, giving off a warm feeling. The aisles are divided with wooden bookcases, and each shelf has different objects ranging from snow globes to journals to bracelets. There's a window seat off to the side with rugs, blankets, and bookcases filled with all types of books from murder mysteries to children's books.

Hannah decides we should split up, saying that whoever finishes first should go ahead and pay so we don't see what the other got us. Hannah goes to one half of the store while I go to the other.

I start with Kate's gift. I pass by a few things she might like. In the end, a snow globe catches my attention. Inside is a metallic scroll with "Naughty" engraved and crossed out on top. Below it says, "Being Nice is Overrated" with some scribbled lines that are supposed to represent names. Sounds like Kate.

Mom should be next. I weave in and out of a few aisles, slowing down in the one with glass figurines. Some are colored and some are clear. I walk past all the clear ones and stop in front of a case with white figurines. I personally hate the color, but it's Mom's favorite. Without a second thought, I pick the white angel.

I barely start looking for the next gift when Hannah passes me on the way to the register with an armful of objects.

"You're done already?" I ask.

She nods. "Yeah, but you take your time. I'll wait outside."

I nod slowly. "Okay. I'll try not to take too long."

That's weird. It's usually Hannah that needs more time to pick out presents and me that finishes first. Maybe it's the fact that Morgan isn't here to celebrate Christmas this year, but it feels important to think through the gifts this time around. Not just for everyone else, but for me, too. If I at least do this much, maybe the weight on my chest would lift a little.

Once the door shuts behind Hannah, I look for her gift. It doesn't take long for me to find something she might like. I stop in the aisle of bracelets, eyeing the shelf with flower designs.

"The flowers are birth month flowers." The man comes out from behind the counter to stand beside me. "Who are you buying them for?"

"My sister," I say. "She was born in October."

"She's a marigold." He takes down the right bracelet for me. "Marigolds are supposed to represent protection, comfort, and healing. Does that sound about right?"

"Mostly." Depends on how you see Hannah. I take the bracelet from him. "Thank you."

"Is there anything else I can help you with?"

He's probably busy considering he still has the book tucked under his arm. His voice is soft, though. Open to helping me. He looks that way, too: casually dressed up with naturally neat hair.

He notices me staring and smiles. "It's not a problem, really. It's my job to help you."

If he's offering... "I still need to find a gift for my dad."

He glances off to the side, thinking for a second before leading me down a few aisles. He stops in front of a case with keychains, reaching for the star-shaped one.

"It's something you can write on," he explains. "Just a thought, but your dad's name could go in the middle. On each point, you can write your name and your siblings' names. Maybe your mom's name, too, if there's room."

"That's not a bad idea." If I can bring myself to write Morgan's name that is.

He smiles, leading me to the counter. He hands me a permanent marker. I reach out for it, my hand shaking. I grab it and hunch over to write before he can notice. I carefully write Dad's name in the center of the star. The tip at the top is Mom's name. The one on the right is Hannah. The one on the left is Kate. I put my name on the bottom right. The marker hovers over the bottom left tip. No matter how much I try to press the marker down, it won't touch the star.

This is stupid. It's just a name. I should be able to write his name without feeling my throat constrict like this. Any other time, I would laugh at how hard it is for me to do this. But right now, it takes everything I have not to cry or scream or do both.

I take a deep breath and scrawl Morgan's name, letting it out once I finish. I give the pen back to the man and push all the gifts toward him. Better pay and get out of here as soon as I can.

"Which one are you?" he asks, examining the star.

I tug on the ends of my hair. "Mona."

"It's nice to meet you, Mona. I'm Nick." I hope my smile doesn't look as anxious as I feel. "There are four of you?" Three, but I nod anyway. "I have four kids, too. One girl and three boys. The oldest is around your age." All I can think about is how close of a parallel that is, every other thought leaving my mind. Nick probably reads awkwardness into my silence and laughs to himself. "I don't know why I'm telling you all this. I guess a dad's gotta brag about his kids sometimes."

I force a polite smile on my face. "It's fine. You clearly love them."

"I do."

He smiles to himself as he puts all the gifts and gift bags into a plastic bag for me. I pay him what I owe, already backing away from the counter before he can get a good grasp on the money. As I leave, three kids run past me to the counter. I recognize them as the ones from the park yesterday. The ones that said hi to Clara. They crowd around Nick, each of them trying to vie for his attention. I leave before I can impose on something personal.

The second I walk outside, all I want to do is take a moment to breathe, but Clara barrels into me, wrapping me in a hug. I stagger backward, but before I fall, she steps back, steadying me. I force a smile on my face, hoping it matches hers.

"I thought that was you," she says.

Over her shoulder, Nathan mouths an apology to me. Clara follows my gaze, glaring at Nathan. He doesn't bother to stop even when Clara hits him on the arm. I can't help but laugh, already feeling my chest loosen.

The smile comes back to Clara's face as she turns her attention to me. "What are you doing?"

I hold up my bag. "Christmas shopping. What's up?"

"We were just wondering if you wanted to hang out."

"She would." Hannah gets out of her car, shutting the door. She joins us, her arms crossed over her chest. "But we really need to get home and wrap the presents."

Clara arches an eyebrow. "Can't Mona do that with us?"

"I'm sure our parents are waiting for us."

"Well..." Clara glances down at the bag in my hand. "Did you guys buy separate gifts?" Hannah nods. "Then, if you go home and wrap your presents, it'll seem like there's only one set when there are really two. It could be a surprise if Mona wraps her gifts with us."

Hannah starts to argue, but she closes her mouth, thinking it over. "That's..." Hannah narrows her eyes. "Pretty smart..." Clara beams. Hannah doesn't, but it doesn't seem to affect Clara at all. If anything, Clara's smile broadens. My sister barely stops herself from narrowing her eyes, but I hear her exhale as she turns to me. "Don't stay out too late, Mona."

I nod. "Got it."

Hannah gives me a meaningful look and my friends a glance before she gets in her car. Our eyes meet through the windshield for a second, and even in that short span of time, I know she's scrutinizing... everything...

When Hannah's car is out of sight, Nathan sighs. "Sorry about Clara. She can be insistent."

Clara rolls her eyes, throwing her hand out as she turns to Nathan. "Oh. I'm sorry. I must be mistaken because I'm pretty sure it was your idea to go ask Mona if she wanted to hang out."

Nathan glares at her. "What? No, it wasn't."

"Oh, really..." Clara lowers her voice to imitate Nathan. "Oh, hey. I think that's Mona with her sister. Do you think she's busy? It was fun hanging out yesterday. Do you think she would want to do it again? It's always better when she's around." Nathan stares at her, his face a light shade of red. I feel the heat seep into my own cheeks and avert my eyes to Clara. She gives Nathan a smug look. "Is that not how it went? I'm pretty sure that's how it went."

Nathan doesn't respond. Instead, he turns to me, the color still in his cheeks. Words spill out of him in a rush, and his smile seems more strained than I've ever seen it. "So you need to wrap the gifts?" I nod, letting him take the bag. Our fingers brush, and he pauses, his eyes flickering from the bag to me. He swallows, his voice coming out slower and quieter than before. "We can go back to Poems and Tales and wrap them upstairs."

He's already turning and walking away before I can respond, leaving me with my hand outstretched like I'm waiting for him to come back and take it. Clara glances between us, and I quickly lower my hand before she can comment on it. But all her attention is really on Nathan.

She smirks at his retreating back. She waves at me without taking her eyes off Nathan. "Give me a second."

Clara runs to catch up to Nathan, throwing her arm around his shoulders. I slowly follow, watching them from a distance. Nathan starts hissing at Clara, and she smiles and laughs in return. Cute... I remember doing something similar...

My hand brushes against the phone in my pocket as the thought settles in my mind. I feel the color drain from my cheeks, the sudden cold jarring. The next thing I know, my phone is in my hand and I'm already pulling up Morgan's Messages.

Morgan: What are you up to?

Me: What do you want?

Morgan: How do you know I want something?

Me: Because you're you.

Morgan: Fair point. I need to give something to Jason.

Me: Cool. Go do it.

Morgan: I need you to do it.

Me: Why?

Morgan: Because I'm busy.

Me: Doing what? You don't do anything.

Morgan: I just need you to do it.

Me: I don't know. I don't have any plans to die.

Morgan: Jason won't kill you.

Me: After what happened at the lake? You don't know that.

Morgan: Just do it. Please?

Me: Fine. Say nice things at my funeral.

Morgan: Only the best for my twin.

"What are you reading?"

"Nothing." I'm already shutting off my screen and shoving my phone in my pocket, the heat rushing back to my face. Clara's eyes widen. When she gets over the surprise, her eyes narrow, and she glances at my pocket. I take a deep breath and even out my voice. "Just something I like to read."

"Looked like texts."

"They were."

"From who?"

"No one."

Clara narrows her eyes even more. "Really...?"

No. "Yes." Morgan isn't no one to me.

"I know you're lying, but..." She glances at my pocket again. "If you say so..."

I face forward, avoiding her gaze. We follow Nathan in silence. I know Clara wants to say more, but, thankfully, she doesn't.

When we reach the landing to the apartment above the café, Nathan is already setting the gifts out on the table along with the gift bags. I freeze when he takes out the keychain. Please don't say anything about Morgan's name... His gaze briefly brushes over it before he takes out the other gifts. Thank god. The keychain is the first gift I place in a bag.

"This is cute," Clara says, picking up the snow globe. "Who's it for?"

"Kate," I say.

I can't make myself look at Clara in case she still wants to talk about what I was reading. Even if she doesn't, the potential of her wanting me to bring up Morgan makes my heart beat a little faster. So I put all my energy into writing "Dad" on the bag I put his gift in.

Clara and Nathan help me with the rest of the gifts. It takes less than a minute.

"They're not really hidden," Clara notes, peering into Mom's gift bag. She glances at Nathan. "Do you have tissue paper?"

He shrugs. "It's somewhere."

As he disappears down the hallway, I say, "You guys really don't have to help. I'm sure you have your own gifts to buy and wrap."

Clara waves me off. "I work better last minute. And Nathan..." She frowns. "...doesn't need to buy a lot of presents."

I guess that makes sense. I've only ever met his mom, so I would think he doesn't have a lot of people to buy presents for. But before I can ask—or decide if I should ask—Nathan comes back. Instead of tissue paper, he has a stack of papers and a couple of pens with him.

"Couldn't find the tissue paper," he says. "But we can cover the top by writing poems and folding them into fans."

Clara rolls her eyes. "Only you, Nathan..."

He returns her eye roll. "Do you have any other ideas?"

Instead of replying, Clara rolls her eyes again and sits back on the couch. Nathan sits on my other side, handing me a piece of paper and a pen.

"Who do you want to start with?" he asks.

I shrug. "We can start with Kate."

Nathan nods. He presses the other pen down at the top of one of the sheets of paper. "Sure. What do you generally feel towards her?"

"Worry."

I feel Clara shift, and Nathan hesitates before he writes that down. "How do you act around her?"

"Distant."

"How does she act around you?"

"She's always sarcastic and full of life."

"Are you guys close?"

"We were."

All of this comes out before I can really think my answers through. They're not lies, and that's exactly what I'm scared of. And that's exactly why the back of my eyes and throat start to burn. The fact that Nathan and Clara are staring at me doesn't really help either. I try to swallow the lump in my throat and hyperfocus on a point on the wall.

I feel Clara shift beside me again. "Were? It seemed like you guys were pretty close yesterday."

I nod, tucking my hair behind my ear. "Long story."

I feel Clara lean forward, and I hold my breath. Right as she's about to say something, Nathan cuts her off, asking me more questions. I let myself breathe, focusing on him. His silver eyes are gentle. Not quite dimmed, but not really glinting like they usually are. Just... soothing.

Nathan hands me the list of things he wrote down for reference. "You can write everything down in your poem to her."

I'd really rather not, but it might be better than having to say everything out loud. And definitely a lot better than sitting here and having Nathan and Clara look at me. They still do that as I write, but at least I have something to focus on now.

While I write, Nathan shifts over so our knees are touching to read what I'm writing. He comments on some of the lines he likes and some he would write differently. Clara does, too, but she gives me more space than Nathan does.

We go through this process with everyone in the family: Nathan asks me questions about someone, I pour out answers without thinking and try not to cry while I do it, and he and Clara read what I write over my shoulder. It takes longer than I think it would, but we eventually get it done.

"Not bad," Clara says, reading all of them side-by-side. "I especially like the one to your dad." She clears her throat dramatically, snatching up the poem to read it aloud:

"A hero from
the start,
you were there for
everything.

Scraped knees and
bloody noses.
Screaming fits and
fistfights.
Silences and
emptiness.
Tears and
cries.
Dreams and
nightmares.

None of it was
too much for you.
I wasn't too much
for you.
Not even during
your worst
nightmare."

"I actually like the one to her mom better," Nathan says. He picks up the poem, ignoring Clara's furrowed eyebrows and my already flushed face. He starts reading it aloud like Clara did with Dad's poem:

"The moment we opened our eyes,
you knew we weren't the Angels you
asked for but Little Monsters instead.

We were demons in disguise
but you called us angels.
We gave you curses
but you called them blessings.
We told you we hated you
but all you heard was 'I love you.'

You said you loved us
and you meant it.
You said we would always be kids
no matter how tall we grew.
You said we were Angels
when it was clear we weren't.
You said you would
always forgive us,
always love us.
But we would
always hurt you,
always break you.

Because we were Little Monsters.
And yet all you saw were Angels."

I feel like I might throw up if they read Kate's and Hannah's poems, too. They don't, thank god. I snatch them up before they change their minds, folding them into fans. Clara and Nathan don't hesitate to fold up Mom's and Dad's poems for me.

"Who's Morgan?" Clara asks, Dad's poem hovering just inside the bag.

Kate's gift bag practically crumples in my hand, and I'm pretty sure I'm not breathing. Why am I so stupid? Why didn't I pick up Dad's bag first? It was the one gift I was worried about, and I didn't think to handle it?

Clara doesn't even seem to notice my panic. She looks right at me and says, "I recognize everyone else's name, but I don't think we've ever met Morgan. I don't think you've even talked about them."

I know Clara can usually tell when I'm lying, and I know she gets upset when I do, so I don't lie. But I can't look at her, so I'm sure it feels like I'm lying anyway. "Morgan is my brother."

"You have a brother?" I nod, running my nails along the creases on Kate's poem. "How come we haven't met him?"

I spread and fold Kate's poem before shoving it in her gift bag. "Um... He's not in town..."

"How come?"

I pick up Hannah's poem and focus on folding it instead of the burning feelings at the back of my eyes. "He couldn't make it."

My hair untucks itself from behind my ear and curtains my face. Not that it does much to actually cover how strained my voice is and how tense I am. Or how Clara's eyes pierce into me. And when she says, "That's too bad," it's all I can do not to cry.

I force myself to straighten and tuck my hair behind my ear again. "Yeah." I stare down at Hannah's poem in my hands. "It really is..."

There's a lull in the conversation, and I spend that time counting my breaths. I don't let myself look at Nathan or Clara. I just count and fold Hannah's poem. When there's nothing left to fold, I spread out the piece of paper and drop it into the gift bag. I immediately realize what a mistake that is because now I don't have anything to focus on except for the feeling of Nathan and Clara looking at me.

I clear my throat, running my hands down my jeans. "I should head home to hide the gifts. Thanks for helping me."

Nathan hands me Mom's gift bag. "Anytime."

"Yeah, anytime," Clara echoes, handing me Dad's gift bag. She doesn't let go when I grab it, forcing me to stay a second longer. My eyes flicker to meet hers, and she gives me a meaningful look, carefully saying, "Tell us if you need anything else. Like a talk or something."

She only lets go of the bag when I nod. I turn, letting my eyes flicker to Nathan. He's looking right at Clara, a certain steeliness to his eyes. Another silent exchange. It must be really bad if he's not even offering to give me a ride. The thought makes my chest grow heavier than it already is but not having to spend more time with anyone puts me at ease. Almost like the pressure a star goes through. Except stars have light years until they finally give into that kind of pressure. I'm sure I only have a few minutes before I collapse.

I force myself to walk down the stairs, trying to count my breaths, but it kind of feels like there are no breaths to count. After all, this is the first time I've talked about Morgan out loud since he died.