When I go downstairs in the morning, I see that the main floor is damp. I call up to tell my parents, but my dad says they are fine, they will be rescued soon.
I have the photograph tucked in my b*a. I can’t stop thinking about my brother and, now, my sister that I never knew I had. I’ve woken up intermittently in the night, heart racing, heart breaking. This story I wanted so badly I am not sure I want anymore.
“What time is the rescue mission?”
Mum says, “Eleven in the morning.”
“By motorboat,” adds Dad.
“We had hoped for helicopter,” my mother says. “But we weren’t deemed high risk.”
I gather whatever food can be eaten without cooking it and store it in the linen closet upstairs. I tell them that it will all be okay, and my dad says not to patronize them, that they are old, not s
