He shrugged.
“She asked me to stay.”
“She’s asleep.”
“I know.”
“Then go to bed.”
He looked through the doorway.
“What if she wakes up?”
My heart broke.
“She’ll call me.”
“What if you don’t hear her?”
“I will.”
He nodded.
But he stayed.
I didn’t understand then that Aaron was already preparing himself to lose his sister.
Chapter Five: The Last Promise
The week before Mary died, she asked Aaron to come into her room.
I was in the kitchen.
Daniel was downstairs.
I later learned that Mary had something she wanted to tell him.
Aaron sat on the edge of her bed.
“What?”
Mary looked toward the window.
“I’m scared.”
Aaron didn’t joke.
“Me too.”
She turned toward him.
“I don’t think I’m going to make it.”
He shook his head.
“Don’t say that.”
“I need you to listen.”
“No.”
“Aaron.”
“I don’t want to.”
She reached for his hand.
He took it.
“If I don’t get to graduate…”
“You will.”
“If I don’t—”
“You will.”
She squeezed his fingers.
“Promise me something.”
He was crying now.
“Anything.”
“Don’t put my things in a box and forget about me.”
“I won’t.”
“I’m serious.”
“So am I.”
She looked toward the closet.
“The red dress.”
Aaron followed her gaze.
“What about it?”
“I want you to take it.”
“What?”
“The red dress.”
He laughed through his tears.
“Why?”
“Because it’s ridiculous.”
“It really is.”
She smiled.
“And because I bought it for graduation.”
Aaron became silent.
She continued:
“If I can’t walk across the stage…”
“You’re going to.”
“If I can’t, you wear it.”
He stared at her.
“No.”
“Yes.”
“Mary.”
“I want you to.”
He shook his head.
“Everyone will laugh.”
“Let them.”
“They’ll think I’m crazy.”
“Then be crazy for me.”
He smiled despite himself.
She touched his hand.
“I don’t need you to become me.”
“I know.”
“I don’t need you to pretend I’m still here.”
“I know.”
“I just want you to make sure I’m not forgotten.”
Aaron looked at her.
“I could never forget you.”
Mary smiled.
“I know.”
Chapter Six: The Day Mary Died
Mary died three weeks later.
There is no beautiful way to describe that day.
There is no sentence that makes it easier.
She died in the hospital.
We were with her.
I held her hand.
Aaron stood on the other side of the bed.
Daniel couldn’t stop crying.
Mary looked at each of us.
Then she closed her eyes.
I remember the silence afterward more than anything.
The machines were turned off.
The room became still.
And for a few seconds, I didn’t understand that the stillness was permanent.
I kept thinking someone would come back.
A nurse.
A doctor.
Someone who would say there had been a mistake.
But nobody did.
Mary was gone.
The red dress remained in her closet.
I couldn’t touch it.
For months.
I opened the closet door once.
I saw the dress.
I closed it again.
I told myself I would deal with it later.
Later became months.
Then years.
Chapter Seven: Aaron’s Grief
Aaron grieved differently from me.
I cried openly.
He didn’t.
I talked about Mary.
He avoided her name.
I displayed photographs.
He stopped looking at them.
I wanted us to remember.
He seemed determined not to break.
For a while, I thought he was healing faster than I was.
I was wrong.
He was carrying everything inside.
One night, I found him sitting on the floor in Mary’s room.
The lights were off.
“What are you doing?”
He didn’t answer.
I turned on the light.
He was holding the red dress.
I froze.
He looked embarrassed.
“I was just…”