When Snow Falls

-Chapter 2-

"Raoul, I swear, if you don't give me back my book within the next three seconds, I'll pound your head to a pulp!"

Raoul's green eyes flickered as he held my book above my head. "And how are you going to do that?" he laughed.

The snide remark that came to the tongue stayed put. While I would have no qualms telling Raoul what I thought of his actions in private, saying what I wanted to with my parents beside me would result in washing my tongue with soap for a least a month.

Which isn't fun.

One of the books I had read mentioned "pity looks" before, and then was as good a time as any to try it out.

"Mom, Raoul won't give me back my book," I whined. Laughed threated to destroy any bit of seriousness left drawn across my face. With a great swallow which felt as if a rib had been shoved to my toes, the creeping grin vanished.

Mom barely glanced at Raoul, who had decided to wave the book around in the air again. "Okay, first, the 'puppy dog eyes' you're trying is a little on the creepy side."

Hey!

I dropped the pity look and settled for a glare in my mother's direction.

Way to kill the pride, Mom.

"And second, Raoul, give your sister her book back before I carry out her threat then give you to your father."

I glanced at the sleeping form of my father, whose head rested on Mom's shoulder. He breathed in quiet, even breaths, peaceful for the first time in months.

Which meant waking him up would result in an all-out war.

Raoul's eyes widened. Something flew across the seats and landed in my lap with the force of a small explosion. The green-covered book sprawled across my legs, pages bent, cover mangled, and spine stretched so far it could have snapped.

I picked up the book at closed it gently, making sure the spine wasn't messed up. Thinning he was invisible, Raoul stuck his tongue out."Thanks a lot, Raoul," I hissed. "You want to ruin it some more?"

My foot met his. Quickly.

And hard.

Ignoring the soundless yelps of pain from my left, I smoothed the pages out and opened it to the first page. Scrawled across the off-white paper was a three-year old's hardly legible handwriting. The letters shook and shuddered, with sharp curves and silly slidings. The name--somehow--brought up sparks of life--energy--in my fingers.

Eris Alicia. There are times I wonder what I sister would be like to have. I wish I could remember you.

A girl two years my elder, never seen but always spoken of. No memories of another girl would ever flicker through my mind. She'd never be able to speak, never play, never fight over a book with me. She may not have even liked books. That was the thing--no one knew. All left of her was a knowledge of a sickness no doctor could cure--nothing else.

At least, for me.

Everyone but me remembered Eris, or knew as much of her as her four years wandering the earth would allow. They just wouldn't talk about her. She was the sibling who existed, yet didn't.

"Clair?"

I jumped slightly and turned my head. Raoul smiled so the corners of his mouth barely flicked up, his eyes aimed at my fingers that touched the letters.

"What part are you at?" he asked. The smallest twinge of sadness fell underneath his words.

He saw the name. He remembered.