The Cracks in the Labyrinth

Chapter 6 (Part 3)

Drip.

Neither the thunder echoing outside nor the relentless rain lashing against the window mattered. As soon as Adam closed his eyes and the earphones were in his hand, there was no other sound to him except that of dripping water in Lili's apartment.

Drip, drop.

Water oozed out of a crack, hanging from the ceiling in the form of liquid pendants that grew and grew until gravity pushed them into the void. Making the same sound beer did when it was dripping from the edges of the coffee table all those years ago.

Drip, drop. Drip, drop.

"Please, don't fight!"

That's what Dario had said that horrible morning. The boy, barely three years old back then, ignored the mess of bottles and wet documents on the table as he ran into the living room and straight into the arms of his brother.

After Bianca's stabbing remark, Adam, unable to shake the flush of hot anger shooting through him, fought his first impulse to push Dario away once he realized his baby brother was crying. Little by little, all of his rage and his drunkenness dwindled as a terrible silence fell over them.

The room was still for a moment.

"This is killing us," said Bianca before leaving and slamming the door behind her.

Adam exhaled and hugged his brother back.

"Where did mommy go?" asked Dario, wiping away his tears.

"Don't know."

A pang of frustration tightened inside him. Adam's brother was precocious, but Bianca and he had struggled for weeks now to get him to understand that he shouldn't call them mom and dad, especially in public. Things were already less than ideal; there was no need to add gossip to their pile of problems. However, Adam didn't have it in him to correct Dario at that moment.

"Are you angry?"

"No," said Adam.

The child glimpsed at the bottles.

"Is it because you drank bears?"

"No," he lied again.

"Why were you yelling then?"

Adam felt the air leave his lungs.

'Just like dad,' that was what his sister had said to hurt him.

And that she did, he admitted.

Neither Bianca nor he had revealed the truth to Dario. Having lost both of their parents in a car accident was bad enough to leave an endless void in their lives, but somehow their deaths were not what hurt the most. The real pain, the one thing that they could never forget was that they were orphans because of their father.

"Grown-up stuff," said Adam.

"Is the soul 'grown-up stuff,' too?"

Perplexed, he gazed at his little brother.

"The soul?"

"Bianca said you were selling your soul to the bad guys. Are you evil?"

Adam's face turned downward, darkened with sorrow.

"She said that?"

Dario nodded.

"Well, Bianca is..." Adam wasn't sure what to say.

"Wrong?" Dario dared to ask.

"Going through a rebellious phase."

"Hm..." Dario thought about it for a moment. "My friends say that the poop-osition are rebels too."