Eight Years Ago...
MARISSA VANDERSON
"Go to the zoo?"
Fourteen-year-old Marissa Vanderson lunged for the neon pink notebook sheet, her fingers catching her older sister Gillian's knuckles in a tug-of-war that left the list dangerously close to tearing.
Gillian smirked, and then let go. The sudden release had Marissa stumbling back.
Gillian laughed, and Marissa's cheeks blazed with embarrassment.
It didn't matter that Gillian was barely eighteen. She wielded her four-year advantage like a scepter, the benevolent monarch of their sisterly bond.
Marissa flopped onto Gillian's plush bed with its monogrammed sheets and luxurious bedspread. The room, and everything in it, was eternally off-limits except during these rare sister summits.
Marissa squinted at the loopy words with the heart-dotted i's and extra swirly s's.
Every item on the list seemed almost mundane: "See a real rock concert," "Have a sleepover," "Eat something from a street cart." And, now, at the very top, "Go to the zoo." Marissa pointed at it, indignant. "This is a real thing. Families do this to spend time together."
Gillian, lounging on her chaise (shaped like a pink high heel) grinned with the lazy confidence she'd always had. "If you want to see a monkey acting silly, look in the mirror."
Gillian's teasing wasn't cruel, but it always left Marissa feeling absurdly young, annoyingly sheltered, and desperate to prove she was more than the family's fragile afterthought.
"It's not about the monkeys," Marissa snapped, hugging the paper to her chest. "It's about doing something normal for once."
They both went quiet. The only sound in the room was the faint trickle of a koi pond in the courtyard below.
Eventually, Gillian rolled upright and planted her feet on the floor, all mischief gone from her face. She peered at Marissa, serious now. "You know I'd take you, right? Anywhere you want."
"Yeah. I know." Marissa looked away, biting her lip to keep it from trembling. For all her bravado, Gillian was the only one who understood. The only one who even tried.
And then, because the moment felt too raw, Marissa balled up the list and tossed it at her sister's head. "What's wrong with going to the zoo? We've never been there. We've never been anywhere fun."
"Except Paris, Rome, London..." She struck a pose, the back of her hand pressed against her forehead. "The hardship. Our lives, so bleak."
Marissa rolled her eyes and retrieved the list, smoothing out the wrinkled ball into a page once more.
"Remember that time we got escorted from the Louvre for touching the statues?" Gillian leveled a finger at Marissa, who had in fact been the culprit, her curiosity overcoming every warning. "Or when you nearly got heatstroke outside the Colosseum because Mom insisted on those matching togas for the family photo? That's not 'normal' enough for you?"
"It's not the same," Marissa grumbled. "We never did anything just for fun. It was always Dad's meetings or those charity things, or—" her voice thinned, "—or some diplomatic event where we had to keep smiling the whole time."
Gillian's expression softened. "We sound like such brats," she said, quieter now. "But I get it. The zoo is…" She trailed off, rolling her eyes upward as if conjuring the image of regular kids feeding goats and eating sticky ice cream.
The list crackled in Marissa's hands. "I want to go somewhere where they don't know our last name, where no one's watching, where I can just…" She trailed off too, unable to articulate what it was she yearned for, only that it was more than a passport full of stamps. It was something sweet and ordinary, something she'd only glimpsed in movies or read about in books.
"Why can't we do normal family things? Picnics in the park and boating on the lake and—and visiting the zoo."
"Our parents have tried to make sure we have extraordinary experiences."
Hmph. Marissa looked at her sister. "They only want us to have extraordinary experiences in protected environments. If they're not with us, we don't get to do anything. We have private tutors, private parties, private everything."
"You know why."
Marissa's throat tightened as she said his name. "Zachary."
The word hung between them like a ghost.
Marissa swallowed hard, pushing down the familiar ache that always came with mentioning him. "I know he was our brother, but we never knew him. His kidnapping happened eighteen years ago."
Their mother had been pregnant with Gillian, and her older sister was born the same year Zachary disappeared.
"He was just a baby. Two years old." Gillian's voice softened to almost a whisper." Sometimes I look at strangers on the street and wonder if any of them could be him, all grown up now, not knowing who he really is." She plopped onto the bed next to Marissa. "Why do you think Mom and Dad have been so protective?"
"I get it." Marissa suddenly felt selfish for wanting a life with more normalcy.
The Vandersons were generationally wealthy, part of the upper echelon of Ash City's elite. She chafed at the restraints built from chains of privilege and protection, but she understood, too, that she was quite lucky to be a Vanderson.
"It's complicated, Rissa." Gillie made a "gimme" gesture with her hand. "The list, please. We'll write it together, okay? Tomorrow, I'll take you to the zoo."
"But it's your birthday."
"As of midnight, I'm a legal adult and I can do what I want. And I want to take my sister to the zoo."
Marissa had always been in awe of her older sister. Gillie could walk into a … a morgue and make it feel like a party.
She had a knack for making even the most awkward or overlooked person feel, for one glittering moment, like the epicenter of the universe.
Tonight, she wore a fringed purple top that looked like it had been plucked from an alien's closet, iridescent leather pants that shimmered with every flex of her leg, and battered army boots spray-painted with constellations. Even her hair, which was naturally brunette, just like Marissa's, had been dip-dyed with streaks of electric blue.
Marissa eyed her sister's outfit with suspicion, then pointed an accusing finger at Gillie. "You're sneaking out again, aren't you?"