Sailor Seabreeze's Arc

Chapter 1 of 1

Sailor Seabreeze wanted one thing: a family that would keep her. She had lost her baby three weeks ago, and her twin Anastasia had lost hers the same week. Now the two girls stood at Kaya's door before dawn. Sailor gripped the rail. Her stomach twisted, and she bent over and threw up in the grass. Anastasia dropped beside her, crying too hard to speak. Both girls were fourteen. Both wore soft, loose clothes that didn't press on their sore bellies. They had nowhere else to go. Sailor knocked with a shaking fist. "Please," she said. "Please, we don't feel good. We don't have anyone." The door opened. Kaya stood there in a robe, her hair loose. She looked at the two sick girls on her step. She did not ask questions. She did not tell them to go to a clinic. "Come here," Kaya said. She got down on the wet ground with them and pulled both girls against her. "I've got you. Both of you." Sailor tried to warn her. "We're sick a lot. Our stomachs—it's from the babies, from being scared all the time. Nobody wants that." "I want it," Kaya said. She didn't blink. "You're my sisters now. That's not a thing that stops." She helped them stand. Anastasia leaned hard on Sailor, and Sailor leaned hard on Kaya. They crossed the yard to a large camper with rounded silver sides and faded green stripes. Kaya opened the door and led them inside. Warm light filled the small space. Against the back wall stood a pair of wooden bunk beds, the mattresses already made up with quilts. Kaya had set out a basin, a jug of water, and a folded cloth on the little table. "You knew we were coming," Sailor said. "I hoped you would," Kaya said. "I've been keeping these ready." Sailor's throat closed. No one had kept anything ready for her before. She helped Anastasia into the bottom bunk, then climbed to the top. Kaya wiped Sailor's face with the cool cloth. She held the basin when Sailor's stomach heaved again and rubbed slow circles on her back until it passed. "Sleep," Kaya said. "I'll be right here." Anastasia's breathing slowed first. Sailor watched Kaya settle into a chair between the bunks, close enough to reach either girl. She did not leave. For the first time in weeks, Sailor felt safe. But under the quilt, her belly still burned and rolled. The grief had made both twins sick, and a warm bed would not cure that. Sailor pressed a hand to her stomach and knew the sickness would follow them into this new home. Kaya had taken them in. That part was done. Now she would have to learn how to keep two girls whose bodies broke down from sorrow—and Sailor would have to learn how to let herself be kept.