Part 8: Jessica Came Home in Handcuffs
I didn’t see my sister again until the arraignment.
My mother wanted me to stay home.
“She’s still your sister,” she said over the phone.
I was folding Lily’s school shirts when she said it.
One pink.
One green.
One white with a paint stain shaped like Florida.
“I know,” I said.
“She was scared.”
“I know.”
“That man got in her head.”
I stopped folding.
“Mom.”
“What?”
“She took the money after he got in her head. She took Lily’s backpack all by herself.”
My mother cried.
I did not comfort her fast enough, which made me feel mean for about nine seconds.
Then I looked at the stack of overdue bills on my counter and let the feeling pass.
Jessica wore an orange jail uniform in court. Her hair was greasy at the roots. No makeup. She looked smaller than I remembered.
When she saw me, her face crumpled.
I hated that it still hurt.
She mouthed, “I’m sorry.”
I looked down at my hands.
There was a Band-Aid on my thumb from where I had sliced it opening a can of soup the night before. Such a stupid injury. Such a normal little pain in the middle of a giant mess.
The judge read the charges.
The prosecutor mentioned the recordings.
The tracker.
The recovered funds.
The torn note.
Jessica’s lawyer asked for low bail because she was not a flight risk.
Detective Cobb coughed into his fist.
Even the judge looked tired of that sentence.
Bail was set high enough that she stayed where she was.
My mother sobbed into a tissue.
I sat still.
Afterward, Jessica’s lawyer asked if I would be open to a family conversation later.
I said, “No.”
He nodded like he had expected that.
As I walked out, Jessica called my name.
Not loudly.
Just enough.
“Emily.”
I turned.
She was being led through a side door, hands cuffed in front.
“Is Lily okay?”
I thought about lying.
I thought about saying no, because it would hurt her.
Then I thought about Lily at the kitchen table, legs swinging, explaining mail fraud to a detective with a grape juice mustache.
May you like
“She will be,” I said.
The door closed between us.
