The Gemini

19. Ghosts of the Past

Carter Reynolds

I had an odd habit of finding myself here. Not here specifically. I've never been to New York, mostly because it was Jessica's favorite place to be when she felt bad. I've spent a lot of time trying to run away from her, but I was tired of it. I was really tired of holding people accountable, because it seemed that if I did that, I would have absolutely no one left.

No one gets to be innocent. Especially when you're trapped in a silent war that never gets to end.

So, I was here again. I wasn't sure why, but I already felt a little calmer. There's a silence here that exists nowhere else in the city.

As I waded through a sea of weathered gray stones, I walked towards a willow that had craned over a weathered headstone, its hanging branches forming a curtain of mourning around it. I pulled the branches back, stepping into the circle that had been protected by the tree's embrace. The gray stone that it protected was weathered past recognition.

I ran my fingers along the stone's face, but it only confirmed what I already knew. Whoever's grave this was didn't have their name displayed anymore.

One time Jessica told me that she would go out of her way to find stones like this. When you couldn't see the name, you got to pretend that the stone represented whoever you wanted. Jessica's lived more lifetimes than I have, so she's lost more. That's just how it works, I guess. So when you're on the run and you have a bunch of different generations to grieve, you get creative.

"Hey, Dad."

I had an odd habit of doing this, but I knew exactly where I got it from.

"I bet you're wondering why I'm talking to a random rock that definitely doesn't belong to you, but this isn't the first time I've done this, right?" I sat down on the grass and hugged my knee to my chest. As I looked at the gravestone, I pretended that I could see the words Nathaniel Carter engraved somewhere.

"I took your name," I added. I had forgotten to tell him the name I chose when I moved to Atalka. "Do you remember when you kicked me out and told me you didn't want me carrying the family name? Because I do. It's my first name now, and you can't do anything about it. I'm clearly the last one standing here."

It wasn't too fun to brag to an empty headstone, and I twirled the grass in my fingers pensively.

"And Mom, if you're listening, I know you tried the best you could. I have a new mom... kind of. She killed me and then... I think you know the story. I won't bore you anymore."

I laid my back onto the grass, staring up at the strands of leaves that filtered in flecks of golden sunlight into something that almost felt harmless. Before I stood up, I remembered that there was another name that I had to grieve now.

"I'm sorry Rowan," I murmured. The name felt foreign to me now, weighing my tongue down with all of its broken promises. "This wasn't supposed to happen. We all messed up, but it was never supposed to be you." I wasn't sure what else to say, and nothing but empty apologies were coming to my mind.

I left the willow tree, squinting at the sun that had just come out. Already, I was starting to get dizzy, so I pulled my hood up and hunched over, trying to ignore the fact that I felt like a walking vampire stereotype. I never got to tell Rowan what I really was, but I'm sure that if I did she would be laughing hysterically right now.

I walked aimlessly, still unsure if I wanted to go back to the penthouse. It felt weird without Jane-Anne there. A part of me felt like I drove her away. It was hard to look at her and know what she had done, but it was even harder to feel her absence.