Cindy and I sat at the kitchen table eating breakfast. It was a beautiful, cloudless morning, in the way it only could be after a big rainstorm. The rest of the time southern California was so covered in smog you could hardly see a thing.
"I'm chopping my hair off," Cindy moaned.
"Did your braid end up in your cereal again?"
"YES!"
I kept laughing as she banged her forehead against the table. "Why can't Mom be a normal human being and let us cut our hair?"
I shrugged. Long hair could be annoying, but it always bugged Cindy more than it bugged me. Probably because she was more active. "She likes it long."
"I want to donate my hair," Cindy pouted. "I think I could really rock a pixie cut."
"If either one of us could pull it off, it would be you," I agreed, absentmindedly separating the marshmallows in my bowl of Lucky Charms, hoping they wouldn't get stuck in my braces.
The doorbell rang, making both of us jump. We glanced at each other nervously. "Who could that be at seven in the morning?" I asked.
"We're about to find out," she replied as she strode toward the door.
Two police officers were standing on our porch, flashing their badges. "Is Gregory Latham at home?"
Cindy eyed them uneasily. "He's at a sales conference out of town."
The officers exchanged an unhappy glance. "What's your name, young lady?"
"Cynthia Latham." She only used her full name when she was nervous. I peered anxiously around the corner, wondering why on earth two police officers were here so early on a Thursday morning.
"Cynthia…" the younger officer began gently. "Your mother was in an accident."
"What kind of accident?" I blurted, emerging from my hiding place.
The officer blinked at me in surprise. "I take it this is your sister."
"Duh," Cindy said defiantly, putting her hands on her hips. "Haven't you ever seen identical twins before? It's not like we're unicorns. And you didn't answer her question."
"A car accident," the older officer said. "She…didn't make it."
The world was yanked out from under my feet and I slumped to the floor. Cindy's voice shook but she maintained her composure. "What happened? She just went to get more eggs!" Mom had meant to make us eggs for breakfast—she always emphasized the importance of starting the day with protein—but we were out. We were too hungry to wait for her to get back so we had cereal instead…
"A drunk driver," the first officer said in the same gentle voice.
"Who gets drunk at six in the morning!" Cindy screamed, tears streaming down her face. "Get out! GET OUT!"
"I understand this is difficult for you—"the older officer started but Cindy cut him off with a snort.
"Difficult? Difficult?! My mother is dead, my father is gone…What could you possibly understand?"
"Cynthia…"
"It's Cindy," she snapped, eyes blazing. "You didn't save her. You couldn't even get a hold of my dad. Go away. I'll call him. I'll figure something out. Just go."
The cops left, but reluctantly. They would be back, with two social workers who took us into temporary custody while they located our dad. I wished they hadn't found him.
===
"Ma'am, ma'am, can you hear me?"
"She's losing a lot of blood."
"We need an IV!"
"Ma'am, blink if you can hear me."
I couldn't blink. I couldn't do anything. Couldn't feel anything. I was floating away. The voices grew more insistent but faded into the background as something cold coursed through me.