Fitting that this is how it would end for Sarah. Her entire life, all she'd ever done was screw up. How could she have expected it to go any different this time? She'd found her family, and in them more than she could have ever asked for. And she'd let them all down, one by one.
So here she was: leaning over the side of a bridge, no company but a cheap bottle of bourbon and the ghost of her dead sister.
The fall wouldn't kill you, Beth said. You'd have to time it.
Sarah felt the tremors grow in strength under her feet, watched the train shoot by underneath her. She was cold. She was tired. She'd been drinking since noon and everything still hurt. She wanted it to be over.
She felt vibrations in her right thigh, even after the rumble of the train had receded. Her phone.
"Piss off, S," she slurred, pulling it from her pocket. Unknown caller. Of course. S had made it clear what she thought of Sarah now, maybe what she'd always thought of her. Sarah cursed under her breath and declined the call. She tried sliding her hand back into her pocket and missed, sending her phone clattering onto the ground.
"Shit."
The phone buzzed again, a loud rattle against the concrete. Unknown caller. She crouched down, grabbed the phone and answered.
"Who the fuck's this? 'S not a good time, mate."
"What are you doing, Sarah?" The voice on the other end was the kindest thing she'd heard all day.
"Mika?"
Sarah whipped her head around, trying to make anything out through the fog behind her eyes.
"You followin' me?"
"I've been tracing your call logs. You tried to contact me."
Sarah remembered it vaguely, when she was slightly more sober, when she gave a shit. She'd thought MK deserved to know what had happened. She should have known the number would be out of service.
"Oi, y'know that's a bloody… invasion of privacy or some shit, yeah?"
"Things are very dangerous for us right now, Sarah," MK said firmly. "I'm only taking precautions."
"Yeah, you sound a lot like DYAD," Sarah said, and was hit with an odd sense of nostalgia for those days. At least she'd felt like she had some control then. Not like now.
"Doesn't matter," she conceded, turning back and leaning over the railing. The ground swayed underneath her. She swallowed back vomit. "I fucked it all up, Mika. Our only shot at a cure, gone 'cuz of me."
The line was quiet for a moment. Sarah imagined all the questions running through MK's head, questions she was too tired to answer.
"We'll find another way," MK finally said.
Another way. That's how it had been for what Sarah had to remind herself was only the past several months and not her entire life. Every small victory had been met with another obstacle, a whole new group of people standing in the way of their freedom. No wonder Beth had jumped.
"Beth's here with me," Sarah said with a hollow laugh, suddenly remembering. She wasn't much more than a washed-out blur by Sarah's side, but she could still make out the look of pity on her face. "Y'wanna talk to her?"
"Beth's gone, Sarah," MK said, and Sarah could hear the hurt in her voice.
"Yeah," Sarah said sadly. "That was my fault too. I was there. Coulda stopped her."
"There are a lot of people I blame for what happened that night. You aren't one of them."
Sarah sighed, clutching at her head to calm a sudden dizzy spell. As kind as they were, MK's words were cutting through the haze in her mind, and she wasn't sure she liked it.
"You should go home and rest," MK said after a long silence.
"Home," Sarah scoffed. Not much of a home, that place. And besides… "My own family doesn't even want me around."
S hated her. Fee hated her. Seemed only the dead could stand to be around her.
"Was gonna get on a train outta here, but what's the point? They'll find me. They always find us. It never stops, Mika. No, there's only ever been one way out."
Silence again. It was too much to put on MK's shoulders. Even now, she was still a burden to her sisters.
"I know a way out," MK said, calming. "If that's what you want. I know how to hide from them. They would never find us."
Us. The word felt like something real, something she could hold onto. MK cared about Sarah, and at that moment, it was enough.
Sarah took one step back from the railing, then another.
"What do I have to do?"
She followed MK's directions: found her car and got into the back seat, windows blocked out with duct tape.
"Hey," Sarah said, because she wasn't sure what else to say in this situation. MK turned in her seat to face her. The sheep mask was a strange sort of comfort to Sarah tonight.
"Give me your phone."
Sarah hesitated a second, but obliged, and then it was out the window. The crushing weight around her chest seemed to evaporate into nothing as she heard it bounce across the pavement. MK stepped on the gas and they took off into the night.
Sarah felt safe back here. She could let MK drive her away from her guilt, her responsibilities, from all of it. Her head fell back onto the back seat, and she was asleep.
"Sarah…"
Sarah opened her eyes slowly. Her head was pounding; she wasn't sure how long she'd slept, but it was long enough for the alcohol to turn on her.
"Sarah."
She turned to her left, immediately jumped back, cursing at the sight of the sheep mask inches from her face.
"I'm sorry," MK whispered, pulling the mask up slightly. "It's me."
"Yeah, obviously," Sarah groaned. "Just surprised me."
"We should get inside," MK said, stepping back to let Sarah out. She picked herself up and out of the car. They were parked some distance away, but Sarah recognized MK's trailer at the end of the yard. Not rigged with explosives this time, she hoped. She followed closely behind MK, quiet because she could sense it was what was expected of her. It wasn't luck that had kept MK hidden for this long. Sarah had to trust she knew what she was doing.
MK waited until they were both inside and the door was closed before flicking a lamp on, casting a soft glow over the room. Everything that made up MK's life, here in this trailer. It felt claustrophobic, it felt lonely, but it also felt like an escape.
"Are you hungry?" MK asked, and Sarah cast her eyes back to her. The mask was off and she was poking through her cabinets. "I'm sorry there isn't much. I don't have company very often."
"No," Sarah said, still in a daze. The thought of food right now nearly made her gag. "No, I'm alright."
"Here," MK said, handing over a glass of water she'd apparently poured while Sarah wasn't looking. "You should stay hydrated."
Sarah nodded, took a small sip, then quickly downed the rest when she realized how much she'd needed it.
MK gestured to the far corner of the room.
"Take my bed. I'll arrange for us to leave in the morning."
Sarah had fought her entire life against this, someone having to swoop in to save her. But she'd finally hit rock bottom, and MK was her hero.
"We should be safe here until then. No one-"
Sarah cut MK off, throwing her arms around her. She cried into her shoulder.
"Thank you."
MK's muscles had gone stiff. Sarah felt a hand rubbing tentatively along her back.
"It's going to be okay, Sarah."
And it could have been wishful thinking, but Sarah felt like maybe it would be.
It felt strange at first. Being rid of all it. Not having to fight anymore. They'd found a basement apartment on the outskirts of Vancouver, paid rent in cash using fake names. They were safe here, at least relative to how Sarah had gotten used to living. Safe enough to get a decent night's sleep once they'd settled in, once there were blankets and pillows on the furniture, once there were house plants on the tiny windowsill by the ceiling. It was enough that someone could mistake this place for a home.
Sarah flipped through TV channels, sunken into the spot on the couch that had been molded to her. Or Mika, she had to remind herself. After months of being cooped up together, she'd taken to only noticing all the irritating ways in which they were different. She flipped past the cartoons, because they only heightened the constant ache in her chest she tried never to think about. Past the science channel. Past the cooking channel.
There. Weather. Something she could look at and not have to feel anything at all.
"I'm going out for groceries," Mika said, emerging from her room for the first time in hours. It had taken some convincing, but Sarah had gotten her to give up her convoluted food delivery system in favor of something a little more reasonable.
"Let me do it," Sarah replied desperately. She needed out, if only for a quick trip to the store. Mika shot her that "you're not ready" look Sarah couldn't stand. "I'm not a bloody child, Mika."
"I know," she replied, looking slightly wounded. "That's not it."
Sarah could sense the no coming, and it wasn't that Sarah needed her permission, only that the rules were the only thing keeping Mika from panicking, packing up what little they had and rebuilding someplace else.
"Look," Sarah interrupted, gesturing at her own face. "I'll attract less attention, yeah?"
It was a low blow, and she could tell by the look on Mika's face that it had stung, but she was desperate.
"Okay."
Sarah knew the routine: sweatshirt on, hood up, keep your head down, don't talk to anyone you don't have to. Mika had been sure to drill it into her head, even if it never seemed to be enough for her. She silently handed Sarah her phone, a burner only to be used in an emergency, and only ever between the two of them, though it was more than once that she'd had to stop herself halfway through dialing a familiar number.
"It'll be fine, Mika," she said, laying a hand on her shoulder. It didn't do much to change the worried look on her face, but she nodded back anyway. It was the best Sarah was going to get. She pulled her hood up, opened the door and stepped outside.
Sarah inhaled deeply, breathing in the outside air for the first time in… god, she couldn't even remember. It was a cold night (Mika insisted the daytime was too dangerous), a thick rain blanketing the city and soaking through her clothes almost instantly. Still, she took her time, slipping into a slow saunter down the sidewalk. She was in no rush to get back.
She came up to the corner store on her right, stopped at the entrance. She could keep walking. Keep walking and never look back. She wouldn't. Obviously, she wouldn't.
Her attention shifted instead to the next block over, to the man and woman stumbling out of a bar.
She deserved a drink.
"It's all just bullshit, innit?" Sarah said, words running together in that way they did when she was four or five drinks in. It had only taken three this time. "Y'gonna chat me up all night or should we head back to yours?"
When he wasn't talking, the man in front of her was hot enough. More importantly, he was just desperate enough to mask her own desperation.
It was almost cute the way he scrambled off the barstool to grab his coat. It had clearly been too long for the both of them. She'd work out her apology to Mika later.
Or now. Sarah spotted her slipping her way through the drunken crowd. She was wearing the mask.
"Jesus Christ," Sarah muttered, pressing her palm to her forehead.
"We have to go," Mika said. She clutched at Sarah's wrist. Sarah instinctively swatted her away, watched Mika twiddle her hands around each other with worry. If Sarah left her now, there'd be no chance of ever calming her down.
"Shit," Sarah said. "Sorry, mate." At least he'd always have the story of the mysterious masked cockblock.
She gave a small nod to the door and followed close behind Mika as they pushed their way out.
Sarah was thankful for the five-or-so minute walk back to the apartment in silence, not that she'd come up with anything to say in the meantime. It did give her the time to realize Mika had tracked her phone. Obviously. When they got back, Sarah brushed past her, grabbed the bourbon bottle off the kitchen counter and made for her room. She managed to take a seat at the edge of her bed and take a healthy swig (she wasn't drunk enough for this) before Mika entered.
"What were you thinking?"
"At least take that thing off," Sarah said. Mika hesitated a second before pulling the mask off. Her cheeks were stained with tears. Sarah felt like shit.
"I'm sorry, alright?"
"If something had happened to you, I…" Mika paused, and Sarah heard the wobble in her voice. "You put both of us in danger."
"We're not in danger," Sarah groaned. "Only ones who saw me were some pissheads in a shithole bar. It's fine."
Mika seemed to consider it for a moment, then shook her head.
"You should pack your things. We'll leave tomorrow."
"No!" Sarah reached out and caught Mika's wrist before she could back out of the room. "Please, Mika. I can't. I just can't live like this, locked away like some bloody caged animal, alright? I feel like I'm losin' my mind in here. I just needed to get out. Needed to not feel so alone for once."
Mika's face softened into something sympathetic. She looked down to her feet.
"You have me," she said softly.
"I know," Sarah said, taking Mika's hand, rubbing at the back of it with her thumb. "I haven't been fair to you, I know that. I stopped talkin' to you. I blamed you for why things were like this, but it was my decision to run away with you. I know you've only ever been tryin' to keep us safe."
"Yes," Mika said. She raised her eyes to meet Sarah's. "I'm sorry, Sarah. I know I can be… difficult. I want to be better. I think that if you're willing to be patient with me, I can learn to trust your judgment more."
"Yeah, 'course."
It felt something like a breakthrough, like they'd finally gotten through to each other. So why did she still feel like this?
"Did we make a mistake, Mika?" She watched Mika's body tense in response. "I still think about them. We just left."
She hated herself for it, but she was crying. She had no right to cry for them after what she'd done.
"You know, don't you?" she asked, finding Mika's eyes. "I know you must've looked for them. You know what happened to them."
"It doesn't matter," Mika said, and Sarah could hear in her voice that she was trying to keep it together for the both of them. "We made a choice. We live for ourselves now."
The alcohol felt like hot lead in her gut.
"Why did you do it?" Sarah asked.
They both knew without having to say it. Sarah was immune, but Mika… Eventually, Mika was going to get sick.
"I tried to convince myself that there was something altruistic in it," Mika said. She sounded so tired. "I think the truth is that I didn't want to be alone anymore."
Finally, Sarah felt like she could understand her. The words hung in the air for a moment, then she pushed herself to standing, pulled Mika to her and kissed her. This made sense. They both needed this. She could feel it in the way Mika shook against her, touch-starved. God, they were both so lonely. Her hands found the bottom of Mika's shirt, pulling it up over her stomach.
"I…" Mika started, voice quaking. "I've never…"
"Y'want to or not?" Sarah snapped, and she sounded like every shitty boyfriend she'd had as a teenager.
"Shit," she said, throwing her hands up and pulling away. "Sorry, Mika. I didn't mean-"
Mika sprang forward, lips crashing against Sarah's. Locked together, they fell back onto Sarah's bed.
Sarah woke up alone the next morning. Her hand unconsciously drifted to the other side of the bed. The warmth of it filled her with a feeling she couldn't quite name.
Stepping out into the apartment, she found Mika in the kitchen, busily working away on something.
"Good morning," Mika said. Sarah wasn't sure she'd ever seen her smile before, but here she was smiling. She managed a small smile back.
"Yeah, mornin'."
Sarah slipped by Mika and opened the tea cabinet.
"I'm making eggs," Mika hummed happily. "If you want some."
"Oh," Sarah said. "Yeah, cheers."
"Here," Mika said, taking the mug from Sarah's hand. She poured in water from the kettle, already heated. Mika didn't drink hot tea.
"Thank you," Sarah said, stunned. She took the mug back, standing awkwardly as Mika hovered in front of her. After a moment, Mika leaned forward, pressed a quick kiss to her cheek, then turned back to the stovetop, red-faced.
Sarah wasn't sure how she felt, only that this felt like a change. And God knows they needed a change.
It took time, but they slowly found a balance. Veera became more open and willing to compromise, and eventually they'd built something resembling a normal life.
"Good night, kulta," Veera whispered into the dark, giggling around the word. "I love you," she said, and as always, it was painfully sincere, like Sarah was everything she'd been waiting for her entire life.
"Love you too," Sarah said, trying to match the feeling in Veera's voice. She never could. Not that Veera seemed to mind. Sarah felt her shift closer in the bed, the weight of her body nestling warm against her back. Gradually, Veera's breathing slowed as she drifted to sleep.
Sarah lay awake and cried.
This was what happiness looked like. A cozy apartment (above ground this time), always warm and bright with sunlight. A kind and caring girlfriend across the breakfast table from her, full to bursting with love. Sarah told herself this was what happiness looked like.
"I was thinking we could go see a movie today," Veera said. "Anything you want, I don't mind."
"Sure," Sarah said, looking up from her plate of eggs, smiling. "That'll be fun."
Veera smiled back twice as big. She was so happy. Maybe she could even look at Sarah without seeing all the faces of the sisters they'd abandoned.
"You're going to the store soon, right?" she asked. "Can you pick up some dry food for Olly?"
"Mm," Sarah replied. She poked at the eggs on her plate. Veera always made them perfectly. Always exactly the same.
Veera gasped playfully, causing Sarah to look up. Oliver was nuzzling at Veera's leg, a little orange ball of fluff. Veera loved that cat.
"You heard us talking about you, didn't you?" she cooed, bending down to scratch behind his ear.
"I should head out," Sarah said suddenly, pushing her chair away from the table. "Wanna beat the morning rush."
"Oh, okay," Veera said. She saw the eggs left on Sarah's plate and frowned. "You barely touched your breakfast."
"Yeah, guess I wasn't hungry."
Veera nodded, watched on in silence as Sarah grabbed her coat and keys.
"Sarah, I…" she started, then paused and reset. "You can tell me if there's anything bothering you."
"No, hey," Sarah said. She placed a hand alongside Veera cheek, felt her lean into it. "Everything's good. I'll think of a movie while I'm out, yeah?"
"Okay."
Sarah lay a parting kiss on Veera's forehead (it always made her smile), and walked out the front door.
Today was yet another beautiful day. Sun shining, birds singing, a cool breeze that felt like it was there just to remind Sarah she was still alive. She ran through the shopping list again in her mind. Milk. Tea. Pasta. Butter. Eggs. Eggs. Eggs. Always eggs.
Oh, and cat food. Couldn't forget the cat food.
She came up to the corner store on her right, stopped at the entrance. The street seemed to stretch on for miles. She could keep walking. Keep walking and never look back. Every step one step further away from shopping lists and movies in the afternoon. Every step one step farther away from Veera.
She wouldn't. Obviously, she wouldn't. Even if the breeze seemed to be pulling her forward. Even if she thought she could hear Beth's voice on the wind.