Prologue
Bang! Della sat up with a start then quickly glanced over at the bed next to hers. It was empty.
“Oh no!”
She grabbed the worn bath robe lying across her mattress and slipped it on. Stepping lightly, she poked her head into the bedroom next to hers where her younger sister, Lacey, slept. Blond hair peaked out of a tattered satin bedspread; her breathing calm and even underneath .Della sighed with relief then tiptoed across the hall and quietly pushed open the door.
In a hushed whisper she said, “Peter! Wake up!” The black head stirred. She grasped a bare shoulder and shook it. “Wake up!”
Droopy eyes opened. “What?”
Grabbing a faded sweat shirt from a pile of clothes on the floor, she threw it at him. “Hurry up.”
He pulled it over his head. “Where is she this time?”
“I don’t know. I heard the back door slam and she’s not in her bed.”
He groaned then stumbled across the room after his sister. The two fifteen year olds descended down oak stairs, landing in an ancient kitchen. Grabbing flashlights from atop an old refrigerator, they flicked them on then headed to the back porch where they slipped on muddy boots. A frigid April breeze met them outside the door.
“You search the south side of the house, I’ll take the north. Meet back here in five minutes.”
Della nodded. She appreciated her twin brother’s take charge manner. She was too tired this night to think. Her older sister’s nightly escapades were wearing on her, and black circles under Peter’s eyes revealed the same. She moved to the south side of the house, scanning the fence and bushes. No sign of Ryce. She headed back to the front of the house when she heard her brother’s whistle. Her footsteps quickened. Ryce was found! She whistled back. He returned it with a longer one, indicating where he and Ryce were located. She shook her head.
What was Ryce doing in the walnut grove?
She retraced her steps, then bore east, heading for a grove of trees. Ryce was soon spotted; sitting Indian style, a pile of moldy walnuts in her lap. Peter was kneeling next to her, pleading softly. “Come on, Ryce. We need to go to the house.”
The older girl grabbed another black casing and examined it. “Mother will love these. We’ll dry them and surprise her with them at Thanksgiving.”
“Ryce, please.” His voice tinged with fatigue and exasperation.
Della soberly watched the scene, her throat tight. Her normally astute sister was sleepwalking again. She quietly moved closer to Ryce and knelt in front of her. “Ryce, wake up.”
“Oh Della! Won’t mother love these walnuts? She’ll be so surprised when she sees what we’ve done for her!”
Della placed her hand gently over her sisters. “Mother is dead, Ryce. She has been for six months.”
Ryce dropped the lone walnut in her lap, peering at her sister with vacant eyes. “No.”
Peter nudged her forearm. “Come on, Ryce. Let’s go to bed.”
She turned to her younger brother. “Is it bedtime?”
Della’s voice broke. A tear trickled down her cheek. “Yes Ryce. We have school tomorrow.”
“School?”
“Yes. You graduate from high school in a few weeks.” Ryce gave her hand to Peter, allowing the young man to pull her to her feet. The walnuts tumbled to the ground.
“Okay.”
Della turned to Peter. “I didn’t bring anything to wake her up. Did you?”
He shook his head. “No. Let her sleep. It’s better she not remember anything. It just upsets her.”
Della nodded and reached for Ryce’s hand. The three siblings trekked slowly back to the old house.
