warnings: nothing explicit, but vague references to past child abuse, neglect, drug use, and mental health issues
Chapter 40: Epilogue
In which there are happy endings
It's a Sunday afternoon in September, and Kala is cooking one of her dad's old recipes. The rest of them are helping too, stirring sauces and slicing vegetables and measuring out spices. And there in the kitchen, as he pours a tablespoon of paprika into a tiny little bowl, something clicks inside of Felix. He stops waiting for the other shoe to drop. He realizes, with a rush of some emotion he can't quite identify, that this is his life now. Being safe and clean and warm and full. Not having to worry that tonight's the night he'll be mugged, or raped, or killed. Not having to worry about anything, really.
Which is weird, for a kid whose first memories are of being hungry and scared while his mom gets high on the couch. A kid who's spent his life just trying to survive, just trying to live for one more miserable day, one more miserable year.
He hands Kala the paprika and takes a step back.
He must be making a face, because Wolfgang elbows his ribs. "What's wrong?" he whispers.
Felix shakes his head. "Nothing," he says. "I'm just. Happy. I guess."
Wolfgang looks at him funny, then seems to understand. "Me too," he says softly. He elbows Felix again. "It's nice, huh?"
And it is.
o - o - o - o - o - o - o
Amanita cries when Nomi calls her.
"Oh my god, Nom, you're okay," she says. "I mean, are you okay? Oh my god, I've been so worried—"
"I'm okay," says Nomi quickly. "And I'm not homeless anymore. I'm living with a lady; she's like the nicest person ever. And the others are here too."
"Felix and Wolfgang? And Lito? You're all safe?"
"Them, and... and we have some other friends too. There's nine of us now, actually."
"Nine? And you're all in one house?"
Nomi laughs. "It's pretty crowded," she admits. "But it's everything I've ever wanted, Neets."
Amanita swallows. "I'm glad," she says. "God, Nomi, I'm so glad you're okay. And— I'm sorry for what I said," she adds quietly. "About how you shouldn't stay with them. I'm sorry I got mad. That really wasn't what you needed, huh."
"It's okay," says Nomi. "I know it was because you were worried. And you wanted to help. And you love me."
"I do, Nom," says Amanita. "I love you so fucking much."
"I love you too," says Nomi.
And now they're both crying, and Amanita says she'll visit over Thanksgiving break, and Nomi can't remember the last time her heart felt so full.
o - o - o
She calls her house too, and her mother answers the phone.
Nomi shuts her eyes. "Hello, I'm in a class with Teagan," she says in a measured voice. "I was calling about a project we have together. Is she available?"
"Oh," says her mother. "Yes, I... I'll go and get her."
Nomi waits with bated breath, until finally her sister picks up the phone. "Hello?" Teagan sounds confused.
"Teagan, it's Nomi— Shhh," she adds, when Teagan inhales sharply. "Don't say anything in front of Mom. Just go to your room."
"No, I haven't started the project yet either," says Teagan loudly. "Yeah, let me go look in the textbook." Nomi hears the thud of her sister's feet as she runs upstairs, then the sound of a door slamming shut. Then, "Nomi!" Teagan squeals. "It's really you? Are you alright?"
Nomi blinks back tears. "Hey, T. Yeah, I'm alright. I'm good, actually. Like. Really good."
"Where are you? I miss you, Nom. I can't believe—"
"I know," says Nomi. "I miss you too. I'm— There's a lady who's letting some of my friends and I stay with her."
"Why didn't you call?"
"I— I couldn't, at first," says Nomi. "But I called as soon as I could, okay?"
"I know," Teagan says simply. "It's fine. So can I come see you?"
"Of course," says Nomi. "We'll have to work out a cover story, but yeah. The sooner the better."
And Teagan lets out a contented little sigh. "I'm glad everything's okay," she says, with all the naïveté of a sheltered twelve-year-old girl.
But she's not exactly wrong. "Yeah," says Nomi. "So am I."
o - o - o
(Nomi keeps it on the downlow, but maybe she also calls up Bug, her friend from boarding school, and maybe he hacks into the Chicago police department's files for her. Maybe she asks him to look into the investigation of the death of one Anton Bogdanow, and maybe he finds that there's nothing but a cursory police report, no fingerprints, no suspects.
Maybe she tells Wolfgang and he hugs her in relief.
Maybe.)
o - o - o - o - o - o - o
Sun doesn't expect much when she tells Angelica about her brother.
Maybe Angelica won't be able to find him. She's heard stories about kids going missing in foster care — they move placements and someone forgets to update their file, they run away and no one reports it. Or maybe he's been adopted. Maybe it was a closed adoption, or he's moved to a different state, or his parents will refuse to let him meet her.
But then Angelica finds him in DCFS's records: Joong-ki Bak, ten years old, living in a foster home a few miles away.
She sets up the meeting between the siblings, and Sun has never been so excited or so scared for anything in her life.
o - o - o
"Do you remember me?" Sun asks the boy standing in front of her. He looks just like their mother.
"I don't know," says Joong-ki.
"My name is Sun," she tells him softly. She wants to hug him.
Joong-ki shrugs. "I'm going to my room," he mutters, glancing at his foster dad, who nods. And Joong-ki leaves without a backward glance.
o - o - o
His foster father, Mr. Kim, is an older man with kind eyes and a beautiful dog, and Sun likes him immediately.
He invites her into the kitchen and makes them both tea.
"Will he come back?" asks Sun softly.
"Perhaps not today," says Mr. Kim. "He has some difficulty with new things."
Sun stares into her tea. "Is something wrong with him?" she asks.
The man hesitates. "He is... angry," he says at last. "Angry at the world."
Sun looks up.
"I do not blame him," the man goes on. "He had been through thirteen foster homes before he came here. Thirteen homes in six years."
"He was supposed to be adopted," says Sun, more to herself than to Mr. Kim. "That's why they split us up. He was supposed to have a good life."
Mr. Kim nods thoughtfully. "I cannot fix the past," he says. "But Joong-ki has lived here for a year and a half, and I have no intention of giving him up. Or of giving up on him."
"I promised our mother I'd protect him," Sun whispers. "But I didn't."
"You tried," says Mr. Kim. "All we can do is try."
There's a lump in Sun's throat. The teacup is hot in her hands.
"Joong-ki is trying too," the man says. "He is trying very, very hard. And in time, he will heal."
Sun blinks back tears.
The man looks her straight in the eye, and says, "So will you."
o - o - o - o - o - o - o
Angelica hires a pair of tutors, Hernando and Daniela, to help them study for the GED.
Lito likes them both. They're smart and patient and funny, and they don't seem to care that Felix has a sixth-grade reading level or that Capheus changed schools too much to learn long division.
Hernando talks about college, how he's majoring in art history and wants to be a professor one day.
"You're good at teaching," says Lito shyly. "I'm sure that you will be a great professor."
Hernando just smiles, and Lito feels his stomach flutter.
o - o - o - o - o - o - o
Luna is reinterred next to Riley's father.
She's given a beautiful marble headstone, but Riley makes sure the one that Wolfgang made is placed right beside it.
She and the others bring flowers and set them by the grave.
Riley cries, and Will holds her tight.
o - o - o
Angelica doesn't pressure them to go to therapy, but she does tell them about her friend, Dr. Silas Kabaka, a psychologist who's agreed to work pro-bono for anyone Angelica sends his way.
Riley takes him up on the offer.
She meets with him twice a week, and little by little, she tells him about her dad, and foster care, and the homeless shelter, and Jacks, and Luna.
She talks, and cries, and Dr. Kabaka listens. They discuss self-harm and depression and suicidal thoughts. She learns the word dissociation.
And it's hard. It's hard to talk about this shit.
But the weeks go by, and she's not quite sure, but it feels like maybe the gaping holes in her heart, the ones carved out by death and trauma and pain, have started to mend, a little.
o - o - o - o - o - o - o
Will starts going to a support group for teens struggling with addiction.
It's good to see people who've gotten clean and relapsed and gotten clean again. One of the girls there has been clean for two years. Will hopes to get there someday.
He doesn't talk much, and when he does he doesn't tell the whole truth, doesn't mention being homeless and giving head to buy dope. But it's nice. It's helpful.
Will stops hearing Whispers's voice in his head, telling him that he's too weak. He starts hearing other voices, voices saying he is strong, he's not alone, and he can do this.
Slowly but surely, he starts to believe those voices instead.
o - o - o - o - o - o - o
There's a girl named Zakia who works at the Starbucks that Capheus used to go to sometimes. She'd always given him her employee discount, and she'd never looked at him like he was less than her. How are you? she'd ask.
Could be worse, he'd say, smiling, and he'd pay for his muffin and go. He'd never properly thanked her.
It's time to change that, he thinks.
He bikes to the Starbucks, walks inside, and there she is, behind the counter.
"Hello you," she says. "You look..." She pauses. "...different."
Capheus grins broadly. "I've had a change in circumstances," he tells her.
"A good one?"
"Very good."
Zakia looks at him with soft eyes. "I'm glad," she says. "I worried about you."
Capheus isn't sure what to say, so he nods. "Thank you," he adds after a moment. "For all the muffins."
"You're welcome," she says.
They stare at each other for a second.
"You bike to work, don't you?" he asks then.
"I do," says Zakia. "Why?"
Capheus takes a very deep breath. "Would you like to go bike riding together sometime? With me?"
Zakia blinks, then smiles, and says, "I'd like that very much."
o - o - o - o - o - o - o
Felix knows he's got issues. Like how he gets nightmares. And how he hides food. And how he never feels clean no matter how many times he fucking showers.
Some mornings he wakes up early and can't get back to sleep, so he goes to the kitchen and eats cereal out of the box till he feels like he's gonna puke. One morning Angelica finds him and sits down beside him and asks him what's wrong.
"Nothing," he says.
Angelica nods. It's dark in the kitchen, save for the watery morning light coming in through the window.
"I'm a bad person," he whispers into the semi-darkness.
"You are not," says Angelica, but Felix shakes his head.
"You don't even know me," he mutters. "You don't know what I've done."
"What have you done?"
Felix shrugs. "I've stole stuff. Broke the law a bunch of times. Beat people up. Been a fucking whore." He pauses, and shoves a handful of cereal into his mouth. "I killed a puppy once," he says, chewing.
Angelica doesn't flinch. "On purpose?" she asks, and that's when Felix loses it.
"No," he says, starting to cry, pressing his hands to his eyes. "No, I swear to god, it was an accident, I was five, I didn't mean it, I didn't—" He chokes down the cereal still in his mouth and stands up, ready to bolt. "I didn't mean to," he whispers.
Angelica stands up too. "C'mere, kiddo," she says gently.
Felix steps closer, and she hugs him.
And Felix can remember his mom, but he can't remember her ever hugging him like this. He cries into her shoulder.
"You're not a bad person," says Angelica, and Felix hugs her back.
o - o - o
"What would you say about going to therapy or something?" he asks Wolfgang the next day. "Like Riley does."
"Therapy?"
"She said it's helpful," Felix shrugs.
"I don't need therapy," mutters Wolfgang.
"Okay," Felix says. "But I think maybe I do."
Wolfgang stares at him.
Felix shrugs again. "I thought maybe we could go together or something."
So they do.
o - o - o - o - o - o - o
"I remember you, you know," Joong-ki tells Sun one Saturday as they're playing with the dog. It's the first thing he's said to her in weeks. "One time I broke Dad's briefcase. And you told him it was you."
Sun stares at him.
"I probably never said thanks or whatever, so sorry," Joong-ki shrugs, eyes fixed on the dog as he scratches behind its ears.
"I love you," Sun whispers before she can help herself.
Joong-ki glances up and gives her a sort of nod. "Okay," he says.
Which is a start.
o - o - o
There's a boy who comes by twice a day to take Mr. Kim's dog on walks. His name is Kwon-Ho Mun and he's a senior in high school. Sometimes Sun goes with him on the walks, when Joong-ki isn't in the mood to interact.
"So how do you know Mr. Kim?" he asks her one Saturday as they're out with the dog.
Sun hesitates for a moment, unsure what to say. "You've met Joong-ki?" is what she settles on.
"The foster kid?"
"Yes." Sun pauses. "He's my brother."
"Like. Your real brother?"
"My biological brother, yes."
"Oh."
He doesn't ask, but Sun explains anyway. "I was in foster care too," she says.
"But not anymore?"
"I'm eighteen now," she shrugs, and Mun nods, and they continue walking.
o - o - o
It's a windy October day a few weeks later when Sun decides to tells him.
"I was homeless," she says, staring at the red leaves overhead. "For a year and a half."
The dog is peeing on a bush. Sun can feel Mun glance over at her. "What... what do you mean?" he asks.
She squints at the branches of the tree and sighs. "I ran away from foster care," she says. "I lived on the streets. I begged for money by the side of the road. I was hungry a lot. Then I made some friends. I moved into an abandoned church with them."
"What about now?" Mun asks, softly.
Sun shrugs. "Now I live in a house with a woman. She's a good person. My friends live there too."
The dog pulls on the leash, but Mun doesn't move. "So you're okay now?" he asks.
"I am," Sun nods. Mun's eyes rove over her face, but she keeps her expression impassive. "I don't want you to treat me differently now that I've told you," she says.
"I won't," says Mun.
He doesn't.
o - o - o - o - o - o - o
Capheus hates himself for it, but sometimes his stomach flips with jealousy when Sun mentions her brother. He's happy for her of course, so happy, but it hurts to think how different his own situation is. Because he knows that his sister could very well be dead. And he isn't sure he wants to learn the truth.
But then her birthday arrives, October 29th. She'd be nine years old. And that's when he tells Angelica.
"I have a sister," he says. "Or— I did. She was a baby, when we entered foster care. We were separated and I never saw her again. She had HIV."
"I'll find her," says Angelica. "If she can be found, I'll find her."
And she does: She finds his sister's file, finds that she was adopted at just seven months old. She contacts the family, and they agree to a phone call. And Capheus cries, with relief, and fear, and hope.
o - o - o
He speaks with the mother first, then with the father, and then, finally, with Cleo.
"Are you really my real life brother?" she asks, the moment she gets on the phone. It sounds like she can barely contain her excitement.
"I am," says Capheus. He tries not to cry at the sound of her voice. "And you're my real life sister."
"I always wanted a brother!" Cleo tells him. "How old are you?"
"I'm eighteen."
"A grown-up!" she squeaks.
Capheus laughs. "Kind of."
"What grade are you in?"
"I'm actually not in school anymore."
"Lucky!" Cleo sighs. "I'm in third grade." Then she seems to perk up. "I'm gonna tell my friends I have a brother who's a grown-up!" she declares. "Can I go meet you?"
"I'm not sure," says Capheus. "We'll have to talk to your parents. But I'm just glad to be able to talk to you on the phone."
"Me too!" exclaims Cleo. "You're cool. Do you like YouTube videos?"
They talk for over an hour. She tells to him about school and her friends and her favorite TV shows and what she wants for Christmas, and Capheus pinches himself several times to make sure he's not dreaming. Because his sister is alive. Alive, and thriving, and bursting with life.
And suddenly Capheus realizes that his mother was right, about something good happening.
That's when he starts to cry.
"Are you okay?" Cleo asks.
"I'm fine," he says quickly.
"Oh," says Cleo. "I thought you were crying."
"I am," says Capheus. "But I'm happy. I'm very, very happy."
And he is.
o - o - o - o - o - o - o
It's November when Kala finally calls her sister Daya.
She tells her everything— about Rajan, about Riley and the church, about Angelica.
Daya cries. "Kala, I'm so sorry," she says. "Why didn't you call me? I could have helped you."
"You had your family."
"You're my family."
"You left," says Kala softly.
"Because I had to," Daya sniffles. "I had to get away. From Mom."
"I know."
"I'm sorry."
"It's okay."
"Are you angry?"
"No," says Kala, which isn't quite true.
She hangs up feeling confused.
o - o - o
Until the next week, when Daya calls Angelica's house.
"I've been thinking," she tells Kala. "I want to see you. I want to visit."
So she comes, the following weekend: She flies to Chicago and stays in Angelica's guest room and she and Kala talk late into the night. It's hard, and uncomfortable, and almost feels like getting to know a stranger. It's been a long three years, thinks Kala.
But then they go to sleep, curled up together, just like they used to. And there in bed, her sister's arms around her, Kala feels certain that they're going to be alright.
o - o - o - o - o - o - o
Felix turns nineteen. They they throw him a birthday party, and it's the first time in his life he's had a birthday more extravagant than a few extra bucks from his foster parents or a pack of cigarettes from Wolfie.
It feels good. Like he matters, or something.
"Of course you matter, you idiot," says Wolfgang. "We all do," he adds.
And maybe he's right.
o - o - o - o - o - o - o
They all go to Amanita's house for Thanksgiving. Nomi hasn't seen Amanita in months, and as they hug, she feels her heart blooming in her chest.
Amanita and her mom hug everyone else too, and tears are shed, and dinner is served. They all eat their fill of turkey and stuffing and warm pumpkin pie. Then they head into the living room, where Riley plays the piano and Wolfgang sings and the rest of them listen— tired, happy, and full.
And Nomi feels like the luckiest person on earth.
o - o - o - o - o - o - o
Wolfgang still visits the church sometimes— picks the lock and slips inside and stays there for a while, thinking.
The others let him go, don't ask questions; they know he can take care of himself, know he'll talk about it if he wants to.
Today it's snowing when he arrives, and the light of the setting sun glints icy gold off the street.
He enters the building and looks around, and it's strange to think that one year ago he was sleeping here with Felix, unaware that seven strangers were about to come into his life and move into the church and wind themselves around his heart.
All their crap is still there in the corner, sleeping bags and blankets and the mattress, by now reduced by weather and neglect to a dirty, moldy mess.
It makes him sad, a little.
His mind goes then, inexplicably, to his first house, the crappy apartment he'd lived in with his parents, where his mother got thrown against walls and he got pummeled to the floor and—
It had never felt like home.
And honestly, neither had this place.
He trudges through the layer of snow that's settled on the ground, sits down on the mattress that he'd slept on for five long years.
He'd put down roots here over time, in the dank, decrepit floor of the church.
But it was Felix who'd been his home.
And when Lito and Capheus and Sun and Riley and Kala and Will and Nomi had moved in, that was the home they'd moved into: A home that existed in their hearts, in their bones, separate from the caved-in roof and broken windows and rotted walls of the church.
And now, separate still, even from the cleanliness and comfort and sturdy reliability of Angelica's house.
Wolfgang touches the fabric of the mattress and feels his chest tighten under his ribs. He thinks of his thirteen-year-old self, that kid who had nothing and no one, and wishes he could tell him that someday he'd have so much and so many.
And maybe it's the dust, or maybe he cries a bit for the first time in years.
It's getting late.
He leaves the church.
He doesn't think he'll be back.
o - o - o
When he returns to Angelica's house, the others are squished together on the couch, bundled under a pile of blankets and watching Conan the Barbarian.
They all look over when he walks through the door, and someone pauses the movie.
"Wolfie, come on," says Felix, "get over here, its Conan."
Kala, seated at the edge of the couch, lifts her blanket and pats the spot beside her. Wolfgang nestles in. Felix unpauses the movie.
o - o - o
And outside it's still snowing, but inside the nine of them are warm and safe and dry.
And, together, they're home.
the end. :) thank you so much for reading. please feel free to fav/review and let me know how you liked it!