Everyone here was celebrating the success of JBC, the company I’d helped found and been the chief financial officer of, the start-up that had become an industry leader in bioinformatics in less than half a decade. But as hard as I’d worked to be in this room, I needed to step away before it was too late.
I had been the last to arrive at the party, but I was the first to leave.
Chapter two
Cori
PRESENT DAY
My best friend Britta had borrowed my SUV for the weekend to go camping, so I ended up taking two rideshares to get home after the party. The first was to the Chipotle in the U District, where I picked up a burrito—chicken, because their carnitas never tasted quite right—and a large order of chips and guac. The second drove me to my house in Wallingford.
Last year, I’d moved into the new-build, row-house-style fourplex near Meridian Park. There weren’t many houses like this in Seattle, where the front door hugged the sidewalk. My home was a testament to the city’s chaotic decades-long building boom. Whenever one beautiful old Craftsman went down, fourto six whatever-was-popular-at-the-moment-style townhomes or condos went up.
But even if my sideways shoebox of a house looked a little odd, I loved the place. Its three bedrooms and two-and-a-half baths were a step up from the downtown apartment I’d been renting. I preferred the quieter neighborhood too.
I told the driver to drop me off on the corner so he wouldn’t need to worry about navigating the one-way street.
As I approached my door, I saw a familiar figure sitting on the front steps.
He was hunched and trembling, elbows on his thighs, forehead resting against his clenched fists. I recognized the dark gray jeans with holes in the knees and tattered sweatshirt as the same outfit he’d been wearing the last time I saw him, over a month ago. Did he even have a spare change of clothes? He must have heard my heels striking the sidewalk, but didn’t look up to acknowledge me until I stood directly in front of him.
“Johnny.”
“Hey, Sis.”
His red-rimmed eyes appeared vacant and bloodshot. He ran a shaky hand across his face. I smelled the acidic rankness of his clothing. Or possibly his body. I had no idea where he was living these days, let alone whether he had access to a proper shower. Band-Aids wrapped around most of his knuckles, and scabs lined his jaw, along with several open sores. It didn’t take much deductive power to conclude that my brother had been using.
“What are you doing here?” I asked gently but with an edge in my tone.
“Ouch. Do I need a reason? Maybe I just wanted to visit.”
I hmphed. At least he was cognizant. Coming down, I guessed, based on how hard he shivered in the mild air.
“You don’t need a reason. You just usually have one.” I gave him a half smile as I stepped past to open the door, motioningfor him to follow me inside. I glanced around to see if any of the neighbors were watching.
Johnny clocked the move. “Don’t worry,” he said. “I’ve only been here a few minutes.”
“Sorry.”
“You shouldn’t be.” He waved his arm around as he sat down at my tiny kitchen table. “I’m fucking proud to have a little sister like you, who lives in a neighborhood where I stick out like a dookie in a fruit basket.” He sighed as I removed the food from the bag. “Better you be ashamed of me than like me.”
“I’m not ashamed of you, J.”
He pressed his lips together, letting the untruth pass. I wasn’t ashamed, exactly, but I’d certainly done my best since college to distance myself from him. Between his short stints in jail or rehab, Johnny had been like a ghost in my life for most of the past decade, slipping in and out without truly being a part of it. He’d only met Marcus once before my former fiancé and I ended things, and I’d never introduced him to any of my other friends or JBC colleagues.
I broke the rule about unwrapping the foil from the burrito as I put it on a plate and sawed it in half.
“Will you eat something?” I asked.
“Nah,” Johnny replied. “Already ate.” He leaned back and patted out a quick rhythm on his stomach. I grimaced. At five foot eleven, he weighed maybe one forty soaking wet, the purple veins under his pale skin protruding and ghoulish. In another world, he was healthy and filled out, with a full set of teeth.
But even missing a few molars—mercifully, all his front teeth remained—his smile still charmed as he beamed at me. Johnny was a good person underneath the addiction, and I mourned the loss of the brother I could barely remember.
I sat down with my food across from him. He took the soda I offered. As I ate, he rubbed the fingers of one hand over theknuckles of the other, and I gestured toward the Band-Aids I’d noticed earlier. “Get in a fight?”
“Ah…no. Just some friends messing around with poke and stick tattoos.” He darted his eyes from side to side and wrung his palms.
“Look, J, it’s nice to see you. I mean that,” I said honestly. “And we can sit and shoot the breeze or whatever if that’s what you want… Or maybe you should just tell me why you’re here.” His eyes appeared conflicted, almost guilty, so I added bluntly, “You know I can’t give you any money.”
