Emmett arrived at the nursing home with his heart heavy. Every breath felt like another pound of weight being added to his guilt. His stomach had yet to untie from the anxiety brought on by the situation with Atlas, and now it was just increasing upon knowing what was coming.

He took in one final deep breath, allowing his body to stiffen even more, and stepped out of the car. Every stride from the car to his father’s room was like a blur and a clear memory at the same time. He was looking at his shoes and felt like he needed to sear this memory into his mind because while he was in that moment, his father would still be alive.

That moment ended abruptly as he stood in the doorway to his father’s apartment. They’d turned his living room into his makeshift hospice area, giving enough room for his hospital bed, his IV, and the copious amounts of machines he was connected to. There was a chair waiting by his side and Emmett sat down without any hesitation.

His dad had his eyes closed and he was breathing slow and hard. Emmett looked up to his heart monitor and saw his blood pressure had noticeably dipped since he was there just a day before. His own chest tightened, and he realized it might be too late to tell his dad the news. He took his father’s weathered hand in his and began counting the moles and liver spots that had spread from age and disease. He opened his mouth to speak, but there was just silence. The news he held was plain and simple and straightforward, yet he couldn’t manage to find the right words.

His father slowly opened his eyes and a gentle smile spread across his face as he looked upon his son. “Hey kid,” he said, his voice dry from the oxygen tubes in his nose. His smile still beamed despite his body fatiguing.

Emmett looked up to meet his father’s dull, hazy green eyes. “Hey, Dad,” Emmett answered with a gentle grin. “I have something really - really important to tell you,” he added.

“I do too!” said his father, with more excitement than Emmett was prepared for. “I had a visitor today!” Suddenly Luca’s smile spread even wider, and those dull eyes glistened.

“Dad, can I go first?” Emmett asked, squeezing his hand. He didn’t want to lose his chance.

“No, no, I need to tell you this.”

“Please Dad, it’s really important,” Emmett pleaded. His grin was slowly disappearing as he began to chew on his lip nervously.

“I saw your mother!” Luca exclaimed.

Emmett’s heart stopped. His breath caught. This didn’t make sense, not with what Atlas had told him. Then it struck him - his father was fading, and fast.

“Why the long face? It’s your mother! She’s come back after all this time,” Luca looked all over his son’s face, not realizing why it wasn’t changing with such wonderful news.

The door to Luca’s room opened, and there stood a tall woman in scrubs with a shaved head, wiping her hands with a towel. “He’s been saying this all morning,” she told Emmett grimly.

Emmett gave a slow nod of his head. “Thank you, Cindy,” he replied. The solemn feeling was growing. Cindy had warned him about this moment months prior. She said people often see those they’ve lost come back to help guide them into the next life. This was the telltale sign that the end was just around the corner.

“That’s great, Dad,” Emmett said, squeezing his father’s hand once more. He now knew that telling him his news wouldn’t register and rendered it pointless. “What did she look like?” he then asked, deciding that if this was in fact the end, he might as well keep his father happy.

“Magical...just like the day she left. She was even wearing the ring I gave her. You remember? The big red one?”

“The garnet? Yes, I remember,” Emmett’s heart dropped. This was the time. He knew the ring was in the family safe, and there was no way she could possibly have it. She was here to carry him on.

“Oh, don’t be liked that,” Luca insisted. “Cindy, come prop me up,” he added and Cindy nodded her head, coming over to adjust Luca’s bed so that he could fully sit up. It made him cough several times. He wasn’t supposed to be putting so much pressure on his lungs, but at this point Cindy didn’t really see it as a problem anymore. Not for long, anyways.

“Emmett, I know I’m dying. Look at me,” Luca looked straight into Emmett’s eyes. "Look at me," he demanded, and Emmett reluctantly did so. “I’m serious, she was here, and she reminded me of something.” Luca’s words were starting to get raspy. “You need,” he paused to cough again, “You need to go -”

Emmett shook his head. “Dad, please, you’re going to hurt yourself,” Emmett was still looking at him, even though it was painful to watch his father push himself like this, just inching closer.

“No! You need to go back to the barn.”

Confusion crossed Emmett’s face. “The barn? Dad we sold that property to the Hardings years ago,” Emmett replied.

Luca shook his head quickly. “No, I never did. I just told you I did.”

Emmett looked back down at the spots on his father’s hand and began counting them again. He didn’t understand why he’d lie about such a thing. It was an old family farm and hardly working anymore. They didn’t need it, especially with the dismal rent Miss Ruby paid and the cost of maintenance. Emmett could have sworn Luca sold it. He’d even seen the bank accounts. It was gone.

Another harsh cough brought Emmett back to the present moment.

“Emmett, I’m dying, but I need you to do this. I need you to,” Luca was insisting again.

“Dad -”

“The barn, go to the barn,” he stopped to take in a gasping breath. His eyes were beginning to water from struggling to breathe. “In the attic, there’s a - ” another gasping breath and Cindy finally stepped in. She began lowering his bed again and turning up the oxygen. Luca’s eyes were starting to close with a heaviness and a blue hue spread over his lips.

“Dad!” Emmett stood up and began to rub Luca’s arm to keep him present. “I’ll go to the barn, I’ll go,” he replied, silently pleading to keep his father conscious.

“There’s a chest in the closet. Ruby kept it safe -” his breathing was labored now, and the blue hue on his lips deepened.

“Okay, okay, Dad, please,” Emmett’s voice was shaking. He looked up to Cindy, who was nodding her head in assurance. He looked back to his dad. “It’s okay,” he said softly. “Let’s get some rest, okay? I’ll go look. I promise.”

Luca gave one slow nod of his head and let his eyes fully close. "Thanks, kid," he whispered.

Emmett sat back down and scooped up his father’s hand within both of his. Luca's strong, supportive grip was slowly going limp. The beeps from the monitor were now getting further and further apart. Cindy pressed the control button and turned off the sounds and the alarms. They didn't need this noise filling the silence.

Emmett rested his forehead on his father’s hand. Tears slowly rolled down his cheeks, falling between their palms and running between their fingers. Cindy came up behind him and placed a calming hand on his shoulder. Together they sat for that final hour, listing the slow, dragging breaths of his father. Together they told him soothing words of comfort to help him pass. And together they heard Luca take his final deep breath, and with his exhale, Emmett felt his father pass beneath his fingertips.

Emmett heaved a quiet and slow sob. This day had been building for years, ever since his father was diagnosed. Then it sped up in the previous months after he’d denied treatment for the third time. Yet, even in that time, this moment still shook Emmett to his core. He was now an orphan.

Cindy kept her hands on Emmett as long as he needed. She gently rubbed his shoulders and let him crumble beneath her comfort. "I know, Love, I know,” she whispered quietly and placed her hand on his. She could feel Luca’s warmth fading quickly, and the chill of death was settling in.

“She’s here, Cindy,” Emmett blubbered between quiet sobs. “My mom. Atlas found her,” he lifted his head and looked up at Cindy, who’s dark eyes were searching his for confirmation. “How? She was just a figment-”

“No, not like Dad said. Atlas told me she’s younger and in a halfway house. She doesn’t...she doesn’t know me,” and with those words he fell into Cindy’s chest, collapsing into a hard cry. Cindy wrapped her arms around him and stroked the back of his head. "She...she doesn't know me.."

“Shh...shhh, Love,” she cooed quietly as she wrapped her arms around him and stroked the back of his head.

Cindy’s voice was comforting, but it wasn’t enough. Not in that moment. Nothing would be enough for Emmett. He knew his mother was there, alive, but she wasn’t his mom, not yet. His father was now gone. The only person he had left was sitting in that room with him, holding him like he was a weeping child. That’s exactly how he felt - a weeping child, just like when he learned his mother would never come home.

Cindy held him for as long as she could, but she was the hospice nurse and had to pull it all back together. “Emmett, Love...We’re going to have to get up. It’s time to let them take Luca,” Cindy’s voice was calm and warm, but also firm. Emmett knew what she meant. They couldn’t leave his father lying there for hours while he cried. She rubbed his arms and helped him sit back up. His face was so red and puffy.

He let her lead the way with lifting him up and escorting him out of the room. His eyes were a cloudy mess and he hardly registered what was even happening anymore. He wanted this memory to be a blur, but he felt that it would sit with him deeper than when he came in. Cindy held him all the way to the car, knowing he didn’t need to see the funeral directors come by and place his father in a bag. When they got there, she stood with him, her hands on his arms. “I’ll come by the house once everything is done, alright?”

Emmett nodded his head and wiped his eyes with the back of his hand.

“I’ll make sure he’s okay. I love you,” Cindy placed a quick and gentle kiss on Emmett’s cheek.

He almost collapsed again as tears burst from his eyes. “I love you, too,” he said, pulling her in for a tight and needed embrace. She held him there for a few more minutes, letting him cry on her shoulder for just a little bit more. Then slowly, she began to pull away. “I need to go make sure everything is okay, okay?”

Emmett nodded again. She helped get him in the car. She gave him one more kiss and went back into the nursing home.

Emmett sat in his car for a long while. He oscillated between screaming and crying into the steering wheel and feeling completely numb. He didn’t register how much time had passed while his emotions purged from his body. He didn’t care. He just needed to let the rawness of it come to the surface before he could drive, and that’s exactly what he did.

Once his eyes burned and his throat hurt from screaming, he accepted it was time to drive away one last time. His hands were shaking as he turned the engine and put the car in reverse. His whole body wanting to cave into more cries every time his breath would catch in his chest. He could drive now, but his body was still wanted to be the little boy that ran back into that building to hug his dad one last time.

He couldn’t, though. His dad wasn’t there anymore. Just his shell being loaded up and carried away, only to be stuffed with preservatives like a strange puppet to be on display. Emmett shook his head to push those thoughts away. He punched the address of the old barn into his phone and started off that way. It was a good hour drive, long enough to reminisce, cry, and swear the entire time. He was so caught up in his grief that he hardly had time to slam on his breaks just as a man was crossing the road at a red light.

His heart stopped as the breaks squealed. The man yelled for his attention and held out his hand as if he could somehow stop the vehicle. Maybe he did, because the grill was only an inch or so from taking out his legs. Emmett held up his hands and apologized profusely. The man flipped him off and kept going.

Emmett waited until the car behind him honked their horn to let him know the light was green. He accelerated slowly, and from that moment on he took his time driving to the barn and paid attention to everything he saw.

What was supposed to be an hour drive turned into almost two. The caution, the sadness, and the overall trauma of the day kept Emmett distracted, only to be brought back to reality by the sound of his phone telling him to make a dozen u-turns. Eventually he was there, parked in front of the old house next to a barn covered in black soot with boards half-fallen to the ground. The house wasn’t in any better shape than the barn. The windows were boarded up and a heavy realtor lock hung from the front door knob. Ruby had really let the place go to hell, and he was too grief-stricken to care.

He walked up to the door and found the front key sitting in a planter with dead shrubs sticking out of the dirt. Ruby hadn’t even bothered to find a new home for the key. There was a second key on the other side of the planter. He assumed it was for the realtor lock, and sure enough he was right. He let himself in and immediately went for the stairs. He didn’t bother pausing to take in the surroundings. This wasn’t home anymore. It hadn’t been for several decades. It was just an empty house with sheets covering furniture as if those heirlooms needed to be kept safe.

Despite being gone for so long, he made his way to the master bedroom as if it was another day coming in from the pasture. He saw the bed his parents shared, stripped of sheets and the green comforter his mother insisted on them having. Her jewelry and trinkets were still laid out on the dresser, covered in dust and rusting from the humid air. He couldn’t bring himself to look at them or speculate why they had been there for so long.

Instead, he went to the closet and started to dig around. He pushed aside shoe boxes and suit cases and piles of clothes. In the back under their clothes he found a large brown, leather chest. It was strapped closed in buckles. Emmett drug it out of the closet into the middle of the room, where dust flew wildly into the air. He swatted it away and sneezed when it tickled his nose. He pulled on the dried straps, the edges of the leather crumbling from the movement, until they finally gave way.

The lid creaked upon and inside was a photo album sitting all alone. It looked so small compared to the large chest it was encased in.

Emmett pulled it out and carried it to the bed. He sat on the edge of the bare mattress and pealed open the album The emotions bubbled right to the surface when he saw the first picture – it was his mom holding him in front of the pond at the end of the pasture. She was pointing to the water, and he was giggling.

Do you know what a group ducks is called? A paddling.

He could still hear her voice in his head. He slowly turned the page, and found picture after picture of their little family, until they turned into pictures of him and his father. Each one stung him deeper and sharper than the last as he watched his life pass in front of him until the final picture of him in his old college dorm room. Yet, the pages kept going. The pictures became letters he'd never seen. He stopped and began reading each one, only to be caught by the dates.

They were between his parents, back and forth, but the timing was off. His mother wasn’t there during those times. She’d disappeared by then and never returned, yet here was her handwriting. He could only assume they were letters she wrote him in the event she’d disappear again, until he arrived at the two final pages. There was one more picture tucked behind a folded piece of paper. His mother was in the hospital, her hair matted with sweat and her cheeks flushed as she lay in a bed, cradling a tiny pink baby in her arms. His dad stood next to her, clearly aged at least twenty years since she’d left, and beaming the exact same way he'd seen just hours before. She hardly looked older than the picture before she left.

Emmett’s heart sank. The baby wasn’t him.

He took out the folded piece of paper and carefully pealed it back. It was a birth certificate dated thirty years ago. A baby girl born prematurely, weighing barely five pounds. Her name was Emmaline Dane.

He had a sister.