Hueca

I look up at the pale glow of my granny's porch light and sigh. Regrettably, I had lied to her and said i'd be fine taking all my bags in myself.

"Nora, do you need help?" My papa lingers beside me. My nostrils fill with the smell of tennessee whiskey, a staple in my family that i have yet to enjoy.

"Please! Be my guest!"

I joyfully hand my bags of clothes, makeup, and shoes to my papa. My twin brother pushes pasts us in a hurry, my pink robe trailed behind him.

"Noah give me back my robe!"

I angrily follow him into the enormous building my grandparents called their home.

I couldn't help but love older houses. They always felt much warmer than any modern white one. As i'm making my way through my grandparents dark green house, something gold catches my eye, and I stop in my tracks. Sitting in a picture frame, my parents both smiled gleefully. My moms blonde hair fell over her shoulders, almost making her look fully covered. My dad smiled eagerly ear to ear, his deep dimples sunk into his cheeks. A tear jolts at my eye. It had only been 2 weeks, and I couldn't bear the thought of my parents being dead.    

"Honey do you want some dinner?"

granny calls me over for the KFC we picked up on our way here. She poured gravy the same way she does anything else, careful, precise, but she never looked up. Papa sat in the corner, quiet as a shadow, watching the room. I tried to ignore the lump in my chest—the same one I'd felt since they drove me home after telling me Noah was in the hospital and Mom and Dad had drowned. They drove me to their house in silence, occasionally reaching their hand behind a carseat to grab mine.

I wasn't necessarily close to my grandparents, but unfortunately my brother and I are only 17, so we both were automatically sent here. After dinner, I go to the bathroom to wash up before bed. Noah's bedroom door is wide open, which was weird, because he hates being in rooms with the door open. I look inside his room and turn on the light.

"What?"

he looks up from his journal and frowns at me.

"What do you remember from the lake that day?"

"I don't remember anything Nora, ive already told you that, leave me alone"

he replies through his teeth and glares at me.

Ever since mom and dad died he's been like this, I like to think he's going through the grieving process, but something inside of me wants to question him.

"Tell me again."

I sit upright and peer into his eyes as he closes his journal.

"Mom, Dad, and I went fishing," he says.

"I remember falling off the boat...the water...thats it- the end."

he hisses the words in clipped sentences, almost spitting them out.

"Seriously what's your problem?" I say. He shrugs and suddenly changes his demeanor to something serious...something that scared me so much I barely recognized him.

"Do not ask me again Nora."

I slowly nod my head and swiftly exit his room.

…

At exactly 9:43am the next day, I get a call from a number I normally dread hearing from. Yet picking up my phone, I grin. Today was a different call, because today was the last time I would have to talk to the detective on my parent's case. I confirm my appointment for the day and head out.

"So Nora," Ana spins my parents file around for me to see in plain view.

"How have you and noah been with your grandparents? Any problems?"

"No! it's great actually!"

She tilts her head thoughtfully and smiles at me.

"I'm glad you're happy. Now we've gotten all the records except one and that would be the recount of the police report. I'm sorry I have to ask you to do this but it's just for procedure and then you'll be out of here."

My eye involuntarily twitches. I don't like retelling my parents story, especially when I wasn't even there to actually know if im telling the truth. I trust the police who handled our case, but I doubt it was 'just a drowning.' I mean...my mom knew how to swim.

"They said my parents and Noah went out fishing at 2pm. At some point, Noah fell overboard—he didn't know how to swim—and he was spotted by a kayaker after he washed ashore unconscious. He was taken to the hospital right away. The police said my dad drowned trying to save my brother; and my mom, trying to save them both, slipped, hit her head, and also drowned. They told me that the water was calm, and the sky was clear. There wasn't any evidence of foul play."

I hesitated.

"They said that it was just a freak accident."

My hands curled into fists in my lap. Even as I repeated the story, something about it didn't sit right with me. They did get there at 2pm right? Or maybe it was 11am...the water...wasn't it supposed to be rough that day? And Noah...he'd fallen off the boat first, right? But the way they described it made it sound like it all just happened perfectly, like a story written in neat lines on a report. I couldn't shake the feeling that something about that day didn't add up—and I had a sinking suspicion I wasn't going to rest until I found out what.