I slowly open the door into the bedroom. My shoulders sag at the sight in front of me. Avi sits there, clutching a familiar blue beanie. You can feel her grief...even without the Voice, I think to myself. I start to walk out and pause. Memories of every moment Avi stayed by my side when I needed her, even when I pushed her away. I let out a small sigh. She doesn’t need space, she needs comfort.

I close the door behind me before walking over to the huddled form, wrapping my arms around her. She startles, looking up at me confused. “What are you doing?” she asks.

“I’m just letting you know I’m here,” I say, holding her a little tighter.

“I’m fine,” she lies, sniffling.

“No, you’re not,” I say firmly. “I could feel your grief walking in here even without having a Voice. You’re not okay. And you’ve been there for me every step of my journey. Now it’s my turn.”

“I don’t want to burden you,” she says softly. “You have your own grief to deal with.”

I pull away just enough to look at her face. Her tear stained cheeks glisten in the glow of her lamp. “That’s enough of that,” I say, looking her in the eyes. “Just because we lost Chloe doesn’t make you any less of my cousin. If anything, I feel it makes you more like a sister. And cousins or sisters, we look out for each other. You’ve looked out for me. Now I’m looking out for you.” We stare at each other in silence for a few moments. Finally, she relents. Her body relaxes as she leans against me and I pull her close again. We sit in silence, save for the occasional sniffle from Avi, and allowed ourselves to feel the grief and loss. And knowing that it’s okay.



This piece was done by the amazing Zacepka