No sooner had Josie and I put the last dish in the washing machine then the sound of the the front door squeaking open came to us... Along with a squeal from Aunt Cassie.

"In the name of all things holy..." she mutters. "Franklin needs to find a new play place."

Josie snorts before greeting her mom.

"Hey dearies! Oh Gen, you forgot your suitcase!"

I glance at Josie before heading back down the narrow halls and into the front entrance. I take the the handle for Aunt Cassie and offer a small, "Thanks."

She smiles at me and we both squeeze our way back towards the kitchen. Aunt Cassie stops once we make it, but I keep heading down towards the bedrooms. I drag my little suitcase inside and inspect the area. Sighing, I decide I'll tackle this project later.

"Mom, did you buy any-?"

"Josie dear, don't worry about me. I'm the one who's supposed to take care of you. Now, which room did you give Gen?"

"The spare one, doh."

"The spare one's a mess!"

"It's perfect Aunt Cassie," I reassure her as I reenter the scene.

She flashes me a nervous smile. Then she turns back to Josie.

"Where in the blazes is your brother?"

"Mom! He's just playing in his room.
Don't you trust me to be able to keep an eye on one kid?" she protests.

"Josie," Aunt Cassie warns, sending an 'I-don't-like-your-tone-glare' her way.

Josie rolls her eyes. Then, in an annoyed tone pushes out, "Can I help you unload the groceries?"

"No!" Aunt Cassie replies so quickly it makes me jump. Josie shoots her a nervous glance. She clears her throat, embarrassed. "No, uh, why don't you help Gen get settled in her room?" Then she mumbles, "Lord knows that place needs help."

Josie crosses her arms and mumbles, "Yeah, sure whatever. Come on Gen."
She walks my way and grabs my arm, pulling me towards my new room.

Josie examines the place for a second, her arms folded and her brows furrowed in thought.

She starts pointing around the room saying, "Trash, trash, trash... Trash.... I swear... I'm gonna get a garbage bag. We need, like, zero of the junk that's taking up your space."

She turns to leave. My eyes follow her for a bit before I glance around again. I notice that the only sort of bed in here is the old crib. That doesn't bother me though. I'd slept on the streets for years and quickly learned to love it. How much worse could a dusty floor be?

Josie returns, a trash bag in hand, and immediately begins throwing everything in sight in the bag.

"There's... nothing here you want to keep?" I laugh.

"I'll keep it of I want to, trust me," she says flatly.

She gets to an antique looking doll in the corner and I expect her to want to hold on to it. But into the bag it goes.

"Hey, hey!" I protest. I quickly go up to her and 'dumpster dive' for the doll. "If you don't want this, can I have it?" I ask playfully.

She looks at me and blows a stray strand out of her hair. "Gen, if you want a doll we can go shopping or something. But please. That thing's old," she says flatly.

"I like it," I protest with a mischievous smile.

"I hate the very sight of it," she growls.

My mouth slowly turns down at the corners and I put out my hand for her to take back the doll. She snatches it and shoves it in. I swear I notice her wipe away a start tear when she thinks I'm not looking.

___________________

"Do you..." I swallow. "Do you know where they're all buried?"

Josie looks up at me from her bowel of Cinnamon Toast Crunch. "Yeah..." she says carefully, needing no explanation as to who "they" are. "Don't... Don't you?" she asks, putting her spoon down in the bowel.

I scratch my hand.

Josie's eyes suddenly go wide in realization. "Of course you don't..." she mutters. "Well, I'm an idiot..."

"No, it's ok... I just... Can we go to see them?"

She pushes back her chair so fast it hits the wall behind her and startles Franklin next to her.

"Yeah, uh... We could drive a short drive or walk a long walk there."

"Whatever works."

"Ok," she replies. Then she heads to the "bedroom hall" calling, "Mom!"

Everything's so close together in this house that I can hear the murmurs of their conversation, but I can't make out many words.

Josie returns with Aunt Cassie.

"Mom says we should drive," she announces. "There could be news crews waiting to jump on you."

My head snaps up. "What? Why?"

"You're Lincoln's long lost little girl. After the shoot- uh- After what happened the mystery of where you were and whether or not you were alive was all anyone talked about," Josie explains.

"Oh..."

"Yeah... The jerks probably wouldn't even leave you only if they say you at the grave- Where we're going."

"Ok, but what news crew is going to notice a couple of girls and a little bit with a lady?"

"Hopefully none of them. But you'd be surprised."

I had hoped all the news featuring me was over once word got out about me being adopted by the Tolias...

No use in making further conversation over it.

"Ok," I say. "Thanks for the ride, Aunt Cassie."

"Of course, Gen," Aunt Cassie replies, picking up Franklin. "Ready?"

Probably not. But I need to be with them.

__________________

It's a lovely place, really. Or at least, as lovely as a cemetery can get.

The grass is green and there's barely a grave on sight that hasn't been adorned with a fresh bouquet of flowers.

I stroll slowly through, with just Josie by my side. Aunt Cassie decided to stay in the car with Franklin. She claims she didn't want Frank to be a bother. I think she doesn't want to face me when I see Max's grave.

"They're all right over there," Josie says softly, one hand in my shoulder, the other pointing a little up to the right.

I feel like my heart has been caught in my throat. I start to make my way over. Josie lets her hand fall off me as I walk away and doesn't appear to make any move to follow me.

I kneel down, tears already blurring my vision. Each tombstone is simple, a flat, engraved rock in the earth.

This is all wrong... I think as I trace the names and look at the dates. Max was only ten. His death was a parent's worst nightmare. Gone before the ones who have him life.

That's how Lacy might go.

I bury my head in my hands at that thought. I had run away from that. I had tried to get away from the heartache. But what's worse? Knowing you've lost her or losing contact and having no idea that she's gone?

I shake my head. This was never how it was supposed to be. I trace Elena's name, slowly. She had such big dreams. She was going to impact this world. I'm convinced her heart was as big as Mother Teresa's...

Dad... Always proud of his country... Always ready to serve. I think he was ready to give it all. The only reason he wasn't ready to die... Was because of us.

Mom... What can I even say about Mom? She was strong. I guess she wants me to be strong too.

I cry harder at that thought because... I'm not.