Chapter 3 - The Broken Timeline
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Nathan forced himself to inhale, the breath shuddering as it entered his lungs. He looked from the faded hospital band up to June’s face, tracing the delicate slope of her nose, the pale brown hair, and those unmistakable gray eyes. They were Sarah’s eyes. He had been so blind, so distracted by the heartbreak of her coupons, that he hadn't seen the ghost sitting right in front of him.
"June," Nathan choked out, struggling to keep his voice steady enough not to frighten her. "Where did you get this bracelet?"
June pulled her arm back, safely tucking her wrist inside the oversized sleeve of her blue coat. She looked at the floor again, her shoulders hunching defensively.
"It was on my mom's wrist," June said quietly. "When the ambulance came to our apartment. I was five. The paramedics cut it off her when they put the needles in her arm. It fell on the floor. I picked it up before the police took me away."
The words hit Nathan like physical blows. Five years old. She had been carrying a piece of medical plastic for four years because it was the last thing that touched her mother.
"Your mom..." Nathan paused, swallowing the thick knot of grief forming in his throat. "What happened to your mom, June?"
"She was sick for a long time," June stated, her voice devoid of the emotion that a child should have. It was the voice of someone who had retold the tragedy to a dozen different social workers. "Her heart stopped working right. She tried to go to work anyway, to pay the landlord, but she couldn't wake up that morning. I tried to make her coffee, but she wouldn't drink it."
Nathan closed his eyes, a single, hot tear escaping and tracing a path down his cheek. Sarah. His brilliant, rebellious little sister had died in a cheap apartment, terrified and alone, leaving a five-year-old child to try and wake her up with a cup of coffee.
The math clicked perfectly into place. Sarah ran away ten years ago. June was nine. Sarah must have been pregnant when she left, or become pregnant shortly after disappearing into the shadows of the city. She had been hiding, too proud or too afraid to return home and ask for help.
"I'm sorry," Nathan whispered, opening his eyes to look at his niece. "I am so, so sorry."
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June looked at him, confused by his tears. "You didn't do it. It was just her heart."
"No," Nathan said fiercely, wiping his cheek. "But I should have been there."
