TIDESONG

Episode 10: The Sisters war

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Cora Miller did not believe in subtlety.

This was not a failing. It was a strategic choice, honed over twelve years of navigating a household where everyone else communicated in subtext and silence. Cora had learned early that the only way to be heard in the Miller house was to refuse to whisper.

So when her brother's former girlfriend's older brother started appearing at her school events, she noticed immediately.

And when he started finding reasons to stand near her after orchestra practice, she became suspicious.

And when he smiled at her—not the polite, distant smile adults gave children, but something warmer, something that suggested he actually saw her—she decided to take action.

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His name was Lucas Kirkland.

He was twenty-three years old, a graduate student in architecture at the university, and according to the extensive research Cora had conducted on her tablet, he had never been arrested, never posted anything embarrassing on social media, and had once volunteered at a children's hospital for three consecutive summers.

None of which meant she trusted him.

"You're staring at your brother's ex-girlfriend's brother," her friend Mira observed during lunch. "That's a lot of exes and brothers."

"He's not her brother anymore. Malachi broke up with Sabrina. Remember?" Cora paused. "Also he's not her brother. He's her brother. Lucas. I just told you this."

"Right. And now your brother's ex's brother—" Mira paused. "Actually, I don't know what Lucas is now. Is he still anything if there's no wedding?"

Cora set down her sandwich. "I need to find out what he wants."

"Maybe he just thinks you're cool."

Cora looked at her friend.

"Twelve-year-olds are not cool," she said. "We are inconvenient and sticky and adults only talk to us when they want something or feel guilty about not wanting something." A pause. "He wants something."

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She confronted him after orchestra practice.

He was standing by the exit, pretending to look at his phone, his posture carefully casual. When he saw her approaching, he straightened.

"Cora. Hi."

"You've been at my last three school events," she said. "We don't have architecture here. Why are you here?"

Lucas blinked. Then, to his credit, he didn't pretend not to understand.

"My sister is having a hard time," he said. "The breakup with Malachi was difficult for her. She's been staying in her apartment, not returning calls, not eating properly." A pause. "I wanted to understand why."

"So you came to stalk his twelve-year-old sister?"

"I came to watch you." He paused. "You're the person Malachi loves most in the world. Everyone knows this. If I wanted to understand my sister's pain, I thought—maybe understanding him would help."

Cora considered this.

"That's not creepy at all," she said. "Just so you know."

Lucas's mouth curved into something that wasn't quite a smile. "I'm aware."

A pause.

"She's not eating?"

"No."

Another pause.

"I'll talk to Malachi," Cora said. "Not because I owe you anything. Because Sabrina was never the problem. She was just another person my father tried to turn into a solution." A pause. "But if you keep showing up at my school events, I will tell my grandmother. And my grandmother is eighty-three years old and has no filter and will call your mother directly."

Lucas nodded slowly.

"Understood," he said. "Thank you."

He left.

Cora watched him go, her expression unreadable.

"He's kind of cute," Mira said from behind her.

"He's twenty-three. He's ancient."

"I said cute, not marriage material."

Cora didn't respond.

But she didn't stop thinking about the way he'd said I wanted to understand.

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That evening, she knocked on Malachi's door.

He was reading—the Robinson book, the one with all the marked pages. He looked up when she entered, his expression shifting from distant attention to quiet warmth.

"Cora. Everything okay?"

"Sabrina's brother has been coming to my school."

Malachi's face stilled.

"He says she's not eating. He wanted to understand why you broke up with her." Cora climbed onto the edge of his bed, tucking her feet beneath her. "I told him I'd talk to you."

Malachi was quiet for a long moment.

"Sabrina and I," he said slowly, "should never have been together. Not because there's anything wrong with her. Because we were both doing what our fathers wanted, and neither of us stopped to ask if it was what we wanted." A pause. "I should have ended it a year ago. Two years. I should never have let it begin."

"So it wasn't her fault."

"No. It wasn't her fault."

Cora nodded. Then:

"Do you think she'll be okay?"

Malachi looked at his sister. At her too-wise eyes and her too-careful posture and the worry she was trying very hard to hide.

"Yes," he said. "I think she'll be okay. It might take time. But she'll be okay."

"Good." Cora paused. "Because Lucas seems like he really cares about her. And also he's kind of—" She stopped.

"Kind of what?"

"Nothing." She slid off the bed. "I'm going to do homework now."

She was at the door when Malachi's voice stopped her.

"Cora."

She turned.

"Lucas Kirkland is twenty-three years old," Malachi said. "You're twelve."

"I know that."

"If he ever—"

"He won't." Her voice was firm. "He's not like that. He's just a brother who's worried about his sister." A pause. "Besides, I'm not interested in boys. They're loud and they never wash their hands and they think I'm a child."

"You are a child."

"I'm twelve. That's not a child. That's almost a teenager." She paused. "And I'm not interested in Lucas Kirkland. I'm interested in whether his sister is going to be okay because my brother broke her heart."

The silence stretched.

"I didn't mean to break her heart," Malachi said quietly.

"I know." Cora's voice was gentle. "But you did anyway."

She left.

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