My Sister Rosa

by Justine Larbalestier

  Rosa is a murderer, like she’s always wanted.

  I hate my sister.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

  In the morning the police interview me at the station, my lawyer and a parent accompanying me. Rosa and Seimone are interviewed, too, but at home. They each have their own lawyers.

  Sally stays with Rosa, David with me.

  David and I are shown into a room that looks exactly like the one they took me to after the accident. Or the not-accident. The fake tiles aren’t pulling up in the corner, so I know it’s not the same room, and it has a weird damp smell the other room didn’t have.

  Ilene doesn’t come in with us. ‘Don’t talk to anyone until I return. Paperwork,’ she says vaguely.

  I was awake most of the night, thinking about what the witnesses said, how they agree Maya was pushed even if they can’t agree on who pushed her.

  I text Leilani from my tablet that I’m thinking of her. I am thinking about her, worrying about her, but it feels like a lie.

  The girls tripped me. On our way to the station, when they were switching back and forth, they deliberately tripped me.

  I think.

  I wasn’t sure then, so I can’t be sure now, can I? Except now I am. They tripped me. I know they did.

  Maya is dead.

  I can’t take it in. I haven’t seen Leilani. When I see Leilani I’ll know. I wish yet again for my phone.

  ‘I didn’t push her,’ I tell David. Is it the third or fourth time I’ve said that? Why am I so hazy?

  ‘Yes,’ David says. ‘I know you didn’t. Yes,’ he says before I can say it, ‘I know Rosa would. But I don’t know that she did.’ I can’t quite parse what he said. It’s like one of those annoying logic puzzles Rosa loves. If A is on a train…

  ‘You think it was Seimone?’

  ‘I don’t know. None of us do.’

  For once David almost looks tired. There’s faint blue under his eyes. They’re a little bloodshot, too.

  Ilene comes in. She pats my shoulder, which is more than David has done. She runs me through my story yet again, taking notes in a little black notebook, and apologises for asking me the same questions.

  My eyes burn. My legs won’t stop twitching, but I’m pretty sure I’m not allowed to get up and walk around the tiny room.

  David checks his phone, sends texts, but I’m sure he’s listening.

  ‘Those recordings of yours?’

  I wait for Ilene to say more.

  ‘Your sister isn’t like most ten-year-olds, is she?’

  It’s hard not to laugh. ‘No, she’s not. How many have you listened to?’

  ‘Just a few.’

  It’s clear she hasn’t gotten to the truly awful conversations yet. There hasn’t been much time.

  ‘Are they going to let me go?’

  ‘I’m working on that,’ the lawyer says.

  David leaves the room.

  Ilene pats my shoulder again. ‘It’s going to be okay.’

  I remember saying the same thing to Maya.

  David returns with water and a packet of chips. I’m not hungry. I’m always hungry.

  At some point I fall asleep with my head on the desk.

  When I wake Sally is in David’s place and Ilene is gone.

  I wipe the drool from my mouth and try to focus. Sally looks older. So many lines on her face. So much grey in her blonde hair. I never noticed any of that before.

  Her head’s bowed.

  ‘What’s going on?’ I ask. ‘What did Rosa say?’

  ‘She still says you did it.’ Sally doesn’t look up. ‘Seimone does too.’

  ‘You don’t believe them, do you?’

  ‘Of course not.’

  It would be much easier to believe she means it if she’d look at me.

  Sally looks at her hands, twisting her wedding ring around her finger.

  ‘I would never push Maya. I like Maya! Leilani’s my best friend here. Why would I kill her sister?’

  ‘I don’t think you killed her, Che.’ Sally keeps rotating the ring.

  It doesn’t feel like she believes me.

  ‘Then why won’t you look at me?’

  ‘I’m tired, Che. I’m gutted.’

  ‘Rosa did it. You know what she’s like. Did you ever think about taking me to a specialist? It was always Rosa. This is Rosa too.’

  Sally looks up. Her eyes are red, and the skin under them looks loose. She reaches across and touches my cheek. ‘Yes. Rosa’s the liar and you’re the truth-teller. We know that. That’s our family. I’m the one who holds us together and David’s the wild one.’

  ‘Mum?’ I don’t understand what Sally’s saying.

  ‘You’ve never called me Mum before.’

  Ilene comes in to explain that Rosa, me and Seimone are all going to be assessed by a psychiatrist.

  ‘Does that always happen?’ I ask.

  Ilene shakes her head. ‘They also want you to have a brain scan, which is definitely not usual. The McBrunights’ lawyer requested it. The McBrunights will be covering the expense.’

  ‘They want a scan of my brain? What about Rosa’s?’

  ‘Rosa’s too,’ Ilene says. ‘As well as Seimone’s.’

  ‘Why?’ I ask. Maybe what we said to them about Rosa got through. They want to see if she’s what Leilani and I said she is.

  ‘They haven’t explained why. You don’t have to agree.’

  Sally asks Ilene something, but I don’t hear because I’m trying not to laugh. Finally Rosa’s getting that brain scan.

  ‘That’s great,’ I say. ‘What kind of scan? MRI?’

  Ilene looks down at her notebook and flips a few pages. ‘Yes. They’ll be MRI scans. You don’t have to do it if you don’t want,’ she repeats. ‘It’s a highly unusual request. It may complicate things.’

  ‘I’ll do it.’ I want to see how the morphology of our brains differs. I want to see exactly what makes Rosa the way she is. ‘Everyone will see Rosa’s not normal.’

  ‘I wouldn’t get your hopes up,’ Ilene says. ‘These kind of assessments are often inconclusive and contradictory.’

  ‘Rosa said yes, too, you know,’ Sally says, looking up, meeting my eyes. ‘She’s not scared of a scan. You’re obsessed, Che. While she adores you.’

  ‘Even when she’s saying I pushed Maya?’

  ‘She’s trying to understand why.’

  ‘I thought you said you believed me?’

  ‘I do,’ Sally says. ‘You’re persuasive. You’ve always been able to get people to like you.’

  ‘Huh? What are you talking about?’

  Her hands are over her eyes. I’m pretty sure she’s crying.

  ‘You’re too much like David,’ she murmurs.

  ‘David?’ I repeat.

  Sally stands up. ‘I love you, Che.’ She wipes her eyes, moving to the door.

  I can’t speak.

  She walks out.

  I stare after her.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Ilene says. I wonder how much she understands of what just happened. I wonder how much I understand.

  They let me go home. Ilene explains that the police would like us to stay in the city and that no charges are being pressed. We’ve heard this several times. She’ll let us know as soon as the scans and assessments are scheduled. I wonder how long that will take and what will happen to Rosa when they realise what she is.

  Sally walks home with me. Or rather, beside me. The sun’s still up. I don’t know what time it is and I don’t want to ask, but it must be late. The shadows are long and the restaurants are full.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Sally says.

  She’s not looking at me. Her eyes are on the footpath, which is pocked with old chewing gum.

  I don’t say anything. When I get home I’m going to use my tablet to text Sojourner. I’ve never wanted to see anyone as much as I want to see her.

  ‘Do you notice how bad this city smells?’ Sally says. ‘Far smellier than Bangkok.’

  �
��I doubt that,’ I say. ‘No durian here.’

  She keeps talking as if I haven’t said anything. ‘The heat opens up the asphalt and lets out the stench of everything that’s ever spilled on it, mostly urine and vomit and stuff that’s gone off.’

  I’m not sure what to say. All I can smell is the incense from the second-hand shop we’re passing. Sally’s setting a fast pace, but I wish it was faster. I wish I could run.

  ‘I hate this city,’ Sally says.

  I’m not sure she’s saying any of this to me.

  ‘I never wanted to come here. It was David’s idea. Everything is always David’s idea.’

  If I’d known that when it mattered, I would have argued even harder not to move here. But now? Sojourner is here. Now it doesn’t matter. Now I’m afraid of having to leave.

  My phone is on the kitchen island as if it were there all along. Did the cops return it? Did Rosa? Does it matter?

  I look at texts from Sojourner. There’s one from last night that didn’t show up on my tablet.

  —Stay strong.

  Then from this morning:

  —Rosa says you were arrested. I’m sorry about Maya. About you.

  When did Rosa talk to Sojourner? What else did she say?

  —No one’s been arrested. Can I see you?

  When did Rosa talk to Sojourner? What else did she say?

  There are no texts from Leilani.

  —I’m sorry. As I text her, my eyes burn and my throat tightens. But I’m not ready to cry, not yet.

  —I miss you. I text Sojourner.

  I slip the phone into my pocket. I’ve missed the weight of it.

  ‘Are you hungry?’ Sally asks.

  It used to be a superfluous question, but not anymore. I haven’t felt hungry since Maya was hurt, and now she’s dead.

  ‘Sure.’

  Sally opens the pantry door, stares at it, then pulls out a box of spiral pasta and a bottle of pre-made arrabiata sauce. David will be horrified.

  I put a saucepan of water on to boil and add salt.

  ‘Thanks, Che.’

  I’ve never heard Sally sound so flat. This is what grief does, I guess. No one I’ve ever cared about has died. I’m not even sure I believe Maya’s dead.

  I want to give Sally a hug, but she’s not looking at me.

  I sit on a stool and watch her stir the pasta sauce. My stomach is full of lead.

  Rosa and David join us for the pasta. The four of us sit on stools around the island almost as if we’re a family.

  David isn’t horrified by the sauce being out of a bottle or by the absence of parmesan.

  Rosa doesn’t speak or look at me. She pushes the pasta around her bowl, making sure each spiral is drenched in sauce. Neither Sally nor David notices that she’s not eating. I don’t believe she’s too sad to eat.

  I put a forkful of pasta into my mouth and chew. It doesn’t taste like anything, and when I swallow I almost gag. I put my fork down.

  I don’t ask Rosa what she said to Sojourner. She’d lie.

  The parentals talk to each other as if we aren’t there, which they so often do, but this time it’s desultory. Their affectionate touches and professions of love seem mechanical.

  I check my phone.

  —Miss you too. I can’t tonight or tomorrow. Sojourner texts. —But soon. Mom’s having a rough time. You okay?

  —I guess. Sorry about your mom.

  No reply from Leilani. I didn’t expect one. I can’t imagine how she’s coping.

  ‘Do you think it’ll be okay if I go to the gym?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ Sally says. It sounds like I don’t care. ‘Keep your phone on.’

  I run the whole way, my feet pounding the footpath. It’s like my body has let go of everything it knew about running and decided to attack the ground as hard as it can.

  When I get to the gym my feet are throbbing and my left calf cramping.

  It doesn’t stop me from working out as hard as I can. No one I know is there and I’m relieved. I don’t know how I could talk to them.

  Not for a second do I stop thinking about Maya. She’s dead. My brain keeps swirling to that. Maya’s dead.

  When I get home Rosa is in my room. Of course she is. Though this time she’s sitting at my desk, not on my bed.

  ‘Sally’s asleep,’ she says. ‘David’s in the study.’

  ‘I thought you weren’t talking to me?’

  ‘Of course I am. You’re my brother.’

  I lie back on the bed and close my eyes. ‘Please leave.’

  ‘What are you doing, Che?’

  ‘Ignoring you, Rosa. What are you doing?’

  I’m not going to let her get to me.

  ‘Praying for you. Sojourner thinks it will help.’

  ‘Why are you talking to Sojourner?’ I sit up.

  ‘I thought she’d be worried, so I called her and told her what happened.’

  ‘No, you called her and lied. I wasn’t arrested.’

  Rosa shrugs as if to say, You will be. ‘She’s praying for you. She told me to tell you that she’ll pray for you every day. I told her you don’t believe in God. She said she knows that, but she’s praying anyway. I told her I believed in God. That I felt His presence when I was at church. That’s His with a capital H. You write it that way so people can tell you’re talking about God and not some regular man. Though I don’t see why God would be a man. Sojourner says I can go with her to church again this Sunday. But only if David and Sally tell her it’s okay.’

  I don’t say anything. Why would I let Rosa know I feel sick? It’s a hard enough battle to keep what I’m feeling from my face. Does Sojourner believe I’m a killer now? I lean forward, stretching my hamstrings. They burn.

  ‘I don’t believe in God,’ Rosa tells me as if this is news. ‘Whether God’s a man or a woman or neither like Elon. Jaime doesn’t either. She confessed to me. She says she doesn’t not believe, but she’s not sure. She doesn’t want Sojourner to know. She says it’s hard when your whole family is religious and you just aren’t. Did you know Jaime lives with Sojourner and her moms? It’s so she can stay at the same school. Her family used to live in the same block, but then the building was sold and turned into fancy apartments and now they live almost two hours away. They don’t have much money.’

  I know this.

  ‘But that’s okay. Neither do we. Just ask David. He’s in the study trying to make money appear out of nothing.’

  She’s getting to me.

  ‘Do you like your lawyer? I like mine. She says nothing bad will happen to me because I didn’t do anything, and even if I did I’m too young. I wonder who’s paying her. I doubt it’s the McBrunights anymore.’

  ‘Why did you kill Maya? Why, Rosa?’

  ‘I didn’t. It was Seimone. She didn’t mean to kill her. It was an accident.’

  I don’t believe her.

  ‘She wanted to give her a fright. Seimone’s upset.’

  Upset?

  ‘Maya dying is the last thing I wanted. Seimone pushed too hard. I told her not to. Seimone wanted to punish Maya. I keep telling Seimone that it’s better to punish people without violence. Violence is too obvious.’

  I stare at Rosa.

  ‘It’s what you always say, Che. People go to jail if they’re violent. Unless they’re boxing. Seimone doesn’t want to go to jail.’

  ‘You make my head hurt.’

  ‘I miss you,’ she says. ‘We’ve hardly talked since I came back from camp and I have so much to tell you. Before that we weren’t talking. I miss talking to you, Che. It’s not the same with Seimone. I can’t tell her everything.’

  I don’t miss hearing everything. I lie down again and close my eyes. Maybe she’ll go away.

  ‘It’s better when you’re my friend. It’s better when you’re not so sad.’

  ‘I’m sorry for your suffering,’ I murmur, not caring if she can hear or not.

  ‘That was sarcasm, wasn’t it?’ Rosa says. ‘You
see? I do know what it is.’

  CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

  I don’t fall asleep until after seven-thirty in the morning, then at nine I’m woken by David knocking on my door, telling me my lawyer is here. I shower and dress as quickly as I can.

  Downstairs Sally, David and Ilene are sitting at the island, drinking coffee. Only David looks like he slept.

  Ilene greets me with a brief touch to my shoulder. ‘Did you sleep?’ she asks. I know I look bad.

  ‘A bit.’

  I sit on the stool next to her, accepting the coffee David offers me. Ilene’s little black notebook is on the island.

  ‘The scans and assessment are at noon,’ she says. ‘For both of you.’

  ‘So soon?’

  She nods and gives us the name and address of the private clinic. ‘The McBrunights have managed to expedite everything.’

  ‘Money, eh?’ David says. ‘Don’t those machines cost millions?’

  ‘Anything else?’ I ask. ‘Have the police said anything?’

  ‘Nothing new. They’re continuing their investigation,’ Ilene says. ‘I’ve finished going through everything you gave me.’

  ‘Going through what?’ Sally wants to know.

  ‘The conversations Che’s been taping with Rosa,’ David says.

  Sally looks like she’s going to say something, but David takes her hand in his.

  ‘The conversations are odd, yes,’ Ilene says, ‘but they don’t prove Rosa wanted to hurt Maya.’

  ‘What about the conversation where she said she wanted to hurt Maya?’ I say, trying to keep the sarcastic edge out of my voice.

  ‘Rosa doesn’t say that though, does she? She says she wishes Maya were dead. We all wish people were dead from time to time. Rosa’s a child. Children wish people dead more often than we do. My daughter wished me dead loudly yesterday when I wasn’t home in time for dinner. What’s clear to me from the recordings is that Rosa likes making your life as difficult as she can. I’m not going to say she’s a typical little sister, because some of what she says is awful, but she’s not as extreme as some siblings. It will be easy to portray this as ordinary sibling rivalry.’

  ‘What about my notes?’

  ‘Honestly, Che, they’re a lot of speculation, and,’ she pauses, ‘some of what you’ve written about your own thinking is, well, disturbing. If charges are pressed I don’t think any of this will help you.’