The Flower of the Valencia

By Khalil A

Ava Reed is a perfectly ordinary girl living in Denver, Colorado. Raven Monclare is a trained killer with potent magical powers. In one hour, in one heart-wrenching, blood-pounding hour, everything as Ava knows it changes entirely when she is forced to go on the run after a horrific event, brought on by Raven and her forces, rips Ava's family completely apart. Pursued fiercely at every twist and turn, Ava and her brother plot revenge--that is, until Ava discovers that she shares something in common with Raven so propelling, it drives them to team up to face the most deadly enemy they both share. This action-packed novel, at every turn of the page, beautifully explores trust and betrayal, friends and foes, life and death, and the overwhelming desire to know your heart when you barely know who you are to begin with. Wildly appealing to young adult and older readers, this novel will surely capture the hearts of many. Exploring love and loss, family and friends, all readers can find a home in the pages of The Flower of the Valencia.

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: Aug 19, 2021
• ISBN: 9781098388362

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The Flower of the Valencia

Khalil A

Copyright © 2021 Khalil A

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Print ISBN: 978-1-09838-8-355

eBook ISBN: 978-1-09838-8-362

Contents

Part One: Of Pain and Flowers

1. Ava

2. Jasmina

3. Hektor

4. Raven

5. Ava

6. Jasmina

7. Hektor

8. Raven

9. Ava

10. Hektor

11. Raven

12. Ava

13. Jasmina

14. Hektor

15. Raven

16. Ava

17. Hektor

18. Ava

19. Hektor

Part Two: The Curse of the Rainbow

20. Ava

21. Hektor

22. Jasmina

23. Raven

24. Ava

25. Hektor

26. Jasmina

27. Raven

28. Ava

29. Hektor

30. Jasmina

31. Raven

32. Ava

33. Hektor

34. Jasmina

35. Raven

36. Ava

37. Hektor

38. Jasmina

39. Raven

40. Ava

41. Hektor

42. Jasmina

43. Ava

44. The Twins

Acknowledgments

To my grandmother, mother, and sister

I would like to bestow the most vulnerable gratitude I have offered thus far, to the three women in my life who have given me the strength to ignite within myself the fiery passion that allows me to splatter my creativity over the pages that lie behind me and the pages that stretch out before me. I love you all. It doesn’t stop here.

Part One:

Of Pain and Flowers

She began the long walk up the sweeping drive, which had just recently taken on the colors and tones of familiarity with its towering trees on either side. The trees in the morning created a welcoming green aura conjured by the filtering of muted sunlight through the interlacing branches. Sprays of cream-colored flowers with ruby-red centers adorned the thick ivy climbing in a latticework up and over the leafy boughs.

A single flower fluttered hypnotically to the ground at her feet. This was followed by another and another until the path in front of and behind her heaved with an undulating tide of flowers. She tried desperately not to step on any of them. This single command beat incessantly in her head. Despite trying to be careful, she quickened her pace, lengthening her strides toward her house, still some ways off in a small clearing. Her heart slammed against her chest as if it were trying to escape. She stopped often to adjust the backpack weighing more heavily on her slight shoulders. Her small hands reached up to remove her sweaty headband. She startled as something cold slipped between her shoulders, sliding slowly until it reached the middle of her back. It was only sweat, she said to herself as her breath came in great gasps as the silence pressing in all around her squeezed the air from her lungs.

The house was in plain sight now, and a wave of relief washed over her as she stepped onto the front lawn. She couldn’t resist turning back to stare at the driveway. It was completely empty. There wasn’t a single flower lying on the ground. Flowers swayed gently in a light breeze stealing up the lane. Their red-eyed stares gazed innocently back at her, silently posing a challenge. Utterly puzzled, she spun toward the house, seized once more by the compelling desire to reach it. With her sudden movement, her hair fanned out, spraying a cloud of flowers in front of her. In her haste to reach the house, she stepped on one of the flowers, grinding it into the gravel-strewn pathway. Her heart rose sluggishly, settling in the back of her throat as the flower’s red eye exploded.

Red liquid tears blossomed from the center, running in rivulets in every direction, staining the papery flesh. Her book bag thudded to the ground as she sprinted the remaining yards to the house, vaulted the six porch steps, and wrenched open the screen door. The screen door banged against the side of the house with a sound like that of a rifle shot, as she fumbled frantically for her keys. In her feverish movements, her elbow knocked against the inner door. The door gave and opened slowly. She forced her way in, slamming and locking the door with trembling fingers.

Sliding down the door until her butt reached the floor, she took deep breaths, taking comfort from the familiar feel of the floorboards beneath her. Everything is okay. You see and step on those flowers every single day, she whispered into the darkness permeating her house. Finding her feet once more, she flicked on the hall light, relaxing further from the warm yellow glow. She walked past the living room and dining room until the kitchen’s interior surrounded her. Her parents obviously had not arrived home yet, but she knew they would be home in a matter of minutes. Her breathing returned to normal as her hand unconsciously found the kitchen light and flicked it on. Her parents and brother would make fun of her once she told them how, like a scared little girl, she had raced, blind with fright, into the house as if her life depended on it. She screamed as the kitchen light fell upon a raven lying stretched out on the floor. The bird squawked piteously, beating its wings hopelessly against the floor as it tried to right itself.

It—it’s okay, the girl said, moving cautiously over to the frantic bird. Let me help you. The bird watched with one beady eye as the girl reached for it. She gasped as a silver light issued from her outstretched hands, wrapping the bird in a glittering net. Weeping, gaping wounds stretched across the bird’s body as soon as the girl’s fingers brushed the glossy black feathers, turning them a dark sticky crimson. Blood bubbled up and out to spill over onto the floor in the shape of a flower. One wing ripped partially away from the body, twisting at an awkward angle. The girl turned and ran for the front door, pulling out her phone as ice and fire pumped through her veins. She managed to get her phone out to call somebody, anybody, when the front door unlocked itself. The chain unhooked itself from its place. The deadbolt slid back, and the bottom lock twisted with two loud clicks. The door flew open, and in the frame stood a girl—a girl looking exactly like her. She knew no more as her head hit the floor.

1.

Ava

The campus of the university mom taught at spread out gracefully before us, already packed to the breaking point with hundreds of jubilant spectators as we turned off of the highway.

There’re so many people here, Hektor, my brother, said, pulling his football jersey over his head.

Well, yeah, this is your big day after all. You fought really hard to get here. You’re not scared, are you? my father teased.

Yeah, Hektor, where’s all that mouth you had last night about scoring a hundred points? He tossed a balled-up napkin he scooped off of the floor at me, but it missed as I hopped out of the car and into the gentle heat of the day. Hektor and my father spilled out of the car after me as my mother went to find a parking space. Hektor ran off to find and join his team, and my father and I entered the stadium together.

Are your friends already here?

Yeah, Max and Leah texted me before we left the house.

Okay, cool, be safe. I’m going to go try and snag me, your mother, and your uncle some seats.

No way, Uncle Phil is here? Uncle Phil wasn’t our actual uncle; he was just a long-time family friend, but he had always been cooler and closer to us than any of our real family members, so we just started calling him Uncle Phil. Plus, I think he liked me a little better than Hektor, which was always an upside. Grinning at my reaction, my father said, Not yet, but he’s on his way. You know he wouldn’t miss something like this for the world. So what, I’ll see you during halftime?

Yeah, to see Uncle Phil, not you. Laughing at the almost-convincing look of hurt on his face, I let the massive crowd sweep me away.

Here, girl, I got you a hotdog, ketchup only, borrrring, Leah sang as I dropped into the seat they saved for me between her and Max. Her own hotdog was piled high with everything you could imagine.

Oh my God, thank you so much! I’m starving, I said, taking the proffered hotdog.

Everyone and their grandmother are here to see this game, Max said, stretching in his seat. As soon as he said it, an announcer’s voice boomed over the speakers.

Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the football regional charity championship, featuring the Pasadena Hawks. At these words, the crowd erupted in boos. And your team, the Denver Cougars! The entire stadium shook as a tumultuous roar rose up from the crowd as we stood. They did the coin toss; we lost, and the other team chose to defer, and our offense charged onto the field.

What number is your brother?

Number 3, I said, pulling my Yankees snapback out of my pocket and putting it on.

My mother and father stood on the sideline with the video camera out. Uncle Phil still apparently hadn’t gotten here yet. We cheered as the ball was snapped and the game began. Hektor stood on the thirty-five-yard line covered by two players clad in red and white. The quarterback caught the ball and ran backward as a huge Hawks player burst through the line. He quickly threw it to his running back, but the big boy changed directions as fast as lightning, tackling him six or seven yards behind the line of scrimmage.

Come on now, Max yelled, jumping to his feet. What you running backward for? What, you scared or something?

Max, calm down, I said, laughing as I crumpled up my hotdog wrapper. It’s only the first play.

Look at this, Max said as the quarterback caught the ball, ran backward on a slant, and got sacked by the big boy.

Number 12, Adams, with the sack on the quarterback, the announcer said. The Cougars are third and twenty-two now. Can they do something on their opening drive of the game?

Get up, Ava, Leah said, grabbing hold of my hand and pulling me to my feet as the snap came. This time, the quarterback stepped up and threw the ball to Hektor. We screamed as Hektor leaped into the air, stretching, twisting, and catching the ball with one hand, with three defenders on him.

Go! Go! Go! we screamed as he broke through the tackle and ran, sending two Hawks players flying. The big boy waited deep down the field and finally stopped Hektor after he picked up sixty-three yards. Trying to capitalize on this, they snapped the ball quickly and passed the ball to Hektor again; but this time, the big boy was ready. He slammed into Hektor, knocking the ball free, sending Hektor crumpling to the ground as he fell on top of Hektor, trying to get the loose ball. I pushed past Max and ran down the steps leading to the field. Hektor didn’t move as the doctors and his teammates swarmed him.

An ice-cold fog coated my skin as they lifted him onto the stretcher and carried him off.

What’s wrong with him? I asked as I ran into my father.

They don’t know, but there’s something wrong with his leg, my father said, grabbing me and holding me still as tremors rocked through me. Your mother is going in there with him. He’ll be okay. My father’s soothing voice stilled the tremors rolling through me. Let the doctors handle it. I’m going back there. Uncle Phil just pulled into the parking lot. Go get him and bring him back to the locker room. Squeezing my shoulders, he let me go. Turning away from my father, I headed for the parking lot to find Uncle Phil.

2.

Jasmina

"W hat do you think he wants with us? Raven shrugged as she pulled her knife from the heart of a dummy we had practiced on for the past three hours. He doesn’t usually call all of us to the room of counsel, does he? It’s usually just you, Cain, and a couple other workers."

Yes, typically, Raven said, sliding her knives into the double-blade sheath on her belt as she headed for the door. Snatching up my blades from the gleaming wooden floor of the practice room Raven and I used for training, I followed her out into the hallway.

Do you think he found someone at last?

Jasmina, I really don’t know. I frowned as I studied Raven’s face. As always, Raven’s face gave absolutely nothing away. In the five years that I have known her and spent countless hours with her, I’ve never been able to guess what she was thinking, or how she felt, by her expressions. I could only guess a great tragedy had befallen her from the empty look in her impossibly dark eyes. Whenever I asked about her life before I met her, she would meet my gaze with her bottomless one and wouldn’t say anything until I, unnerved as a crawling sensation crept along my spine, looked away and changed the subject.

Christian’s mansion sprawled around us as we made our way to the room of counsel. Endless paintings and richly woven tapestries adorned the walls, stretching lazily up the numerous marble stairwells. The plush carpet smothered our booted footsteps. Technically, we weren’t supposed to wear our boots outside of the practice rooms, but I was with Raven. Oddly enough, Christian’s many strict rules always bent, or were simply ignored, when it came to Raven.

Wait a second. Before we go in there, what’s wrong? I grabbed hold of Raven’s arm as we turned into the hall that would bring us to the room of counsel. Raven flinched at my touch, but I didn’t let go of my hold. Sometimes it felt as though Raven was all I had living here, and I wouldn’t stand around and let her be upset about something.

It’s noth—

Don’t tell me it’s nothing because I know that isn’t true. Whenever Christian summons us, you’re usually determined to do whatever it is. Something’s up. And he never calls for all of us to come at once—I moved closer to Raven—this is it, isn’t it?

I don’t know, maybe it is. Raven pulled her arm out of my grasp, and continued down the hall. She rubbed the spot where I had touched her, as if trying to wipe the memory of it away.

If this was it, if this was what Christian and all of us have been waiting for, why wasn’t Raven excited? Why was she acting like this? This would be the end to all of our searching; this would be our last mission. With excitement mounting in my chest, I pushed through the massive double doors after Raven.

A long ebony table dominated most of the room, ringed by comfortable looking high-backed leather chairs. A huge chandelier swung gently, throwing bright light over many paintings devouring the windowless walls. Mounds of papers displaying graphs and maps almost hid three men who sat thumbing through the files.

Oh good, Raven and Jasmina, please join us, a deep voice said from somewhere to my right. Christian stood with his back to an unlit fireplace. With our arrival, his head, which had been bowed slightly, snapped up and around to fix us with his piercing green stare.

Yes, my Lord, I said, moving over to sit in the chair opposite Raven. Raven, not saying anything, pulled her knives out and placed them with their blades crossed in front of her on the table. Raising my eyebrow in a silent question, she looked down at the blades and then back up at me. With the smallest of movements, she shook her head. Was Raven expecting something to happen? No, she couldn’t be; that was just Raven. She took her knives wherever she went as if someone waited around every corner, ready to kill her.

We’re just waiting for my insufferably slow son to arrive, and then we shall begin in earnest. But while we wait, Christian continued, I might as well catch you both up.

My Lord, Ramsey, who sat to the immediate right of Christian, said, leaning forward. I was just wondering if you thought it prudent to include Jasmina on this information? A swooping rush filled the pit of my stomach. Heat rose to my face as my eyes dropped to the table.

Hmm, Christian said, pacing back and forth. Your concern is honorable Ramsey; however, I think Jasmina will be of great value in the near future. Did Christian really think that highly of me? I forced my face to remain straight as I looked up to find Raven’s inscrutable eyes on me.

Now let’s get back to the matter at hand. I have discovered a sixteen-year-old girl by the name of Ava Reed who lives with her brother, Hektor Reed, her mother Teresa Reed, and her father Anthony Reed. They live in Denver, Colorado, which is a beautiful city if I do say so myself. As Christian named each member of the family, Ramsey slid a glossy picture down the length of the table with his huge hands.

Where’s the picture of Ava? I said as I finished looking at the three pictures Ramsey gave us.

All in due time. Christian finally took his seat at the table. Now the reason why I am interested in Ava here. . . , Christian said, sitting perfectly straight in his chair. He sat still, it made me feel self-conscious for playing with the papers in front of me. Taking a deep breath, I sat back in my chair. Ava has extraordinary magical powers. I jumped as a long shinging sliced through the room as Raven picked up one of her crossed blades. The multicolored light streaming from the chandelier tinged the blade with a crimson glow. With a light flick of her wrist, she sent the blade spinning end over end straight up into the air. Without following the flight of the knife with her eyes, she deftly plucked the knife out of the air as it hurtled back toward the table.

I swallowed hard as I turned back to look at Christian.

I think she may be the answer to all of our problems. We will capture her as— Before Christian could finish talking, the double doors behind me burst open. Cain, there you are. Nice of you to join us at last.

Sorry, Father, Cain said, moving farther into the room. I, um…overslept, and, um…

No, please continue. Christian spread his arms wide in a gesture I knew to mean trouble was coming. You have predictably captured my complete attention, you overslept. Really, son, you should write those very words down. I do believe they are the promising beginning of a riveting novella. I picked up one of the folders on the table, using it to cover the grin inching its way across my face. Christian was always making Cain look like a fool. I mean he was a fool, and he was so mean to everyone that I always found it highly entertaining when Cain got what he deserved.

Well, Ruth also took up a large portion of my time to tell me that I could take my time because this meeting wasn’t important and— Christian stopped Cain with a raised hand.

There’s no need for you to explain any further. You hear this, everyone? Everyone at the table besides Raven nodded as Christian got up from his chair. My son Cain here has been delayed by Ms. Ruth, who has studiously observed that my meetings are, ah…meaningless. Raven, can you be so kind as to go fetch Ms. Ruth for us?

I sat rigidly in my chair, fidgeting with the wristbands looping my arms as we waited for Raven to return. Knowing Cain for who he was, Ruth hadn’t said Christian’s meetings weren’t important and hadn’t told Cain to take his time either. Everyone in the room knew he was lying merely to save his butt. What would Christian do to her? Would he fire her, or would he publicly embarrass her? Smirking to himself, Cain sat in the chair beside me. My heart jumped in my chest as footsteps coming from the hall cut through the suffocating silence in the room.

Ruth closely followed Raven into the room. She held a large cookbook in her thin pale arms.

Dear Ruth, thank you for coming so quickly. Cain here just told us all you were the reason as to why he turned up late for my not-so-important meeting. Ruth stood stock still by the doors that closed behind her. The doors were the curled lips of a snarling jackal, trapping Ruth in with us. I turned my face away, trying fruitlessly to push away Ruth’s quietly accepting expression. Raven, who had reclaimed her seat across from me, picked up her knife again and sent it whistling toward the ceiling.

I’m pretty sure you know that I cannot allow this to continue. I am trying to teach my son here, and my daughter there, he said, pointing at Raven, all about being punctual, and having someone such as yourself interfering just won’t do. Can someone please tell us what happened to the last person who got in the way of my teaching?

You fired them, my Lord, Ramsey said lazily in his rumbling voice. My hands trembled, unseen, lost in the cold shadow of the table as I wiped them off on my pants, trying to remove the pools of sweat collecting there.

Precisely, Christian said, clapping his hands. I flinched at the sudden noise of his claps that beat at me. So Ruth, you do know what that means, don’t you?

I guess it’s time for you to pack your bags, Cain piped up. I threw him a dirty look as his smirk stretched, slithering its way into a full smile.

No, indeed—Christian frowned at Cain as if he was truly disappointed with his answer—that’s what happened the last time. Apparently, this rule seems to have been ineffectual, seeing as it keeps happening. So, he said as Raven’s knife rocketed up toward the ceiling once more. Raven, kill Ms. Ruth for us…if you don’t mind. My mouth fell open as the blade, touched once more by the bloody tinge of the light from the chandelier, sliced down toward Raven. Leaning forward in her chair, Raven caught the knife by the point and snapped her wrist forward. By the light haloing itself around Raven’s hand from the chandelier, I could’ve sworn her hand trembled very slightly as the knife left her fingers. The knife whistled across the room, flashing dangerously close to my face. A wet thud stabbed through the room as the knife buried itself in Ruth’s throat.

The cookbook slipped from Ruth’s hands, hitting the carpeted floor with a muffled bang. Ruth slammed back against the doors and slid sideways to land sprawled on the floor.

Clean this mess up. At Christian’s words, one of the men sitting at the table jumped to his feet and hastened over to Ruth’s body. Now that that’s settled, Raven, please enlighten your brother on our little mission. Raven’s voice was a badly tuned radio, all static, puffing in and out as she retold the information about the girl Ava amid the image of Cain’s evil smile intruding into my thoughts. Cain’s obvious pleasure in cruelty repulsed me more with every passing day, turning over and over, heavy in my gut. And then Raven’s blank expression as she killed Ruth, whom we actually liked and spent countless time with down in the kitchens. We all worked for Christian, but Raven’s lack of emotion sent a cold, slimy feeling radiating through my body. It made me question, not for the first time, did I truly know who Raven was?

And what about the rest of the family?

They will be killed, of course, Christian said, answering Cain’s question. Jasmina and Raven, I want the both of you to know this information for the future, but I do not want you to go on this initial trip to capture Ava. Cain, you will accompany Ramsey and his men. What in the world was going on? It wasn’t a big surprise I wasn’t going on this mission; I was the newest member of the team, but why wasn’t Raven going? She was Christian’s best fighter, everybody knew that…probably even better than Ramsey, I would bet. An annoying smug look crossed Cain’s face as he threw Raven a gloating look.

Pass this to Cain, Ramsey said, handing me another folder. An itching desire to open the folder stole over me as I passed Cain the file. The corner of a picture poked out of the bottom. This had to be the picture of Ava they hadn’t shown us. As soon as we got out of here, I wanted to talk to Raven to see what she thought of all of this.

Cain opened the folder and studied the picture inside it. As hard as I strained, I couldn’t see inside the folder; Cain had it turned so only he could see.

But…but father, this is—

Look more closely, and do not say a single word. Cain’s eyes grew large in his pale and pointed face. Pressing his lips together, he reached over me and handed the folder back to Ramsey. My eyes met Raven’s, but as usual, I couldn’t tell anything of what she was thinking.

Now that all of that is taken care of, I want you all to leave immediately. There was a quiet knock at the door. Christian pointed at me. I immediately got up and walked shakily to the door that had a wide smear of blood on it. Iris’s small form appeared in the doorway.

Transportation to Denver is ready.

3.

Hektor

My leg was killing me, but after a couple of tentative walks up and down the locker room and a few painkillers, I felt good enough to return to the game. Everyone thought it was way more serious than it actually was. My mother’s piercingly stern gaze studied my face to find any signs of discomfort. She hovered over me, with her hands out in front of her as if she was the doctor and could put me right again.

How does it feel? Does it hurt?

Uh, yeah, but it’s fine. I’ve had worse.

If it was up to my mother, she would’ve yanked me straight out of the game without a second thought. Luckily, just then, two figures burst into the room.

One figure turned out to be Ava. Moving hurriedly over to me, Ava said, I just saw Dad, and the doctor said the X-rays came back negative and it’s up to you if you feel good enough to return. Hektor, if you ask me, I think you should get back in the game and do something about that bigheaded boy who hit you. She barely stopped for breath.

As her words washed over me, I looked up into her earnest face. I couldn’t help thinking she sounded like a parent coaching their child on how to handle bullies. When she spoke this animatedly, she rocked back and forth, curling her long dark hair around the fingers of her left hand.

You’re right, Avs, I said, swinging my legs off the cold steel table. From this upright position, I could now clearly make out who stood behind Ava. In her haste to get her thoughts out, she had forgotten to tell us Uncle Philip was here.

Uncle Phil, I didn’t know you would be able to make it, I said, throwing a suspicious look at my mother.

Oh yeah, Hektor, I forgot to tell you, Uncle Phil actually found me as I was fighting through the crowd; Dad actually sent me to find him.

Yes, Ava—Uncle Phil threw Ava a half weary, half amused look—I was planning on surprising you for your big game by running onto the field. But I guess I’m too late—he let out a long sigh and then raised one bushy gray eyebrow—or…do you plan to get back in there? The way he said it…I had no choice but to get back in the game.

Yeah, sure, sure, I said, looking down at my hands folded in my lap.

I got here just in time for Ava to tell me that some young man smacked you good one time out there on the field. You’re not going to take that lying down. Uncle Phil said with a twinkle in his warm eyes. Feeling like the biggest loser, I got to my feet once more and reached for my jersey.

Hektor, are you sure? my mother said, reaching up to put a hand on my shoulder. Her big brown eyes searched my face intently and, seeing no pain, just determination, she stepped back. In the past couple of years, I had grown taller than my mother, but in that moment, I felt dwarfed by her overwhelming concern.

Come on then. Ava snagged my helmet off the table and stuffed it over my head. She did it backward, so I was temporarily blinded as she marched me out the door. My mother, my father, who had just finished talking to the doctor, and Uncle Phil followed us as we left the locker room. I smiled to myself as Uncle Phil said, Yeah, there you go, go get them. He tried so hard to act our age, sometimes it was painful to watch.

Thunderous cheering swept me up as I stepped onto the field. I looked around, searching for a jersey with Adams on it. Spotting him about fifteen yards away, I took a deep, calming breath and took my position. From then on, it was game time.

The team huddled on the twenty-yard line, and as one of our players snapped the ball, Adams streaked toward me. Sam, our quarterback, flicked the ball to me, of course, and I caught it, letting the ball come to me instead of leaping for it like last time. I spun effortlessly through the defenders until I saw Adams barreling toward me. I skipped out of bounds at the nine and was met with boos from the Hawks fans.

You can’t take a hit! one boy in the front row yelled. Ava, who stood near the boy who yelled, pretended to trip up the steps. She grabbed wildly for his arm. She knocked the snowball he held into his face and down his shirt, leaving a crimson stain on the white fabric. Getting a grip on myself, I got back in my position. Ava couldn’t be the only one fighting; I needed to step up.

Adams crouched directly across from me. As soon as they snapped the ball, I sprinted toward the middle of the field; I couldn’t believe how much room they were allowing me to get. The ball sailed my way, and at the same time, I felt Adams hot on my heels. I snatched the ball out of the air, turned, and met Adams. He was low to the ground, coming straight at me. Without thinking, I ran straight at him and leapt over his low form, catapulting myself into the end zone.

After the game, I helped dump Gatorade on our coach, Mr. Barnett. We beat the Hawks 38 to 9, and I broke a Cougars record by racking up 218 yards. Nationals would be in two weeks’ time, and my head still spun from all the camera flashes, cheering, and the pure feeling of elation from just winning this huge game. The few clouds present at the start of the game dispersed, letting the sun shine down mercilessly. Wanting peace and quiet after the game, Mom and Dad went ahead to the house to get food ready. After a hard game where I had taken a few more vicious hits, my leg still bothered me. Ava and Uncle Phil got up to come meet me. We headed toward the parking lot. I slid into the back seat of his new tricked-out sports car. I was so tired that I didn’t even stop to admire the glossy paint job.

Uncle Phil, can we stop at McDonald’s? I am starving, Ava trilled in a singsong voice.

Hektor is tired, how about—

Come on now, it’s on the way. It’s not like I’m asking you to make a detour or anything.

—Fine, fine, he sighed, but I knew she would get what she wanted, even though there would be food back at the house. Unlike our mother, Ava could twist Uncle Phil into knots if she wanted to. Every Christmas, Ava always had more gifts from Uncle Phil than I did. When I asked him one time when I was about seven or eight why he always bought Ava more stuff, he said with a way-too-serious look on his usually cheerfully lined face, You will come to learn that Ava needs more attention than other children.

The car purred to life and slid effortlessly down the gently curving streets as house after house flashed by. After getting a large PowerAde from McDonald’s, I felt slightly better as the car found the twisting, turning lane leading up to our house. Rolling my window down, the light fragrance of the white flowers curling themselves around the trees lining either side of the driveway flooded the car. Birds hopped up and down the tree branches, peering quizzically down at the car gliding beneath the low, sweeping limbs. Ava stopped flipping through the radio stations to point at something lying in the middle of the road.

Look at that, she said, with her eyes narrowed.

What is it?

A flower. Look, it’s all crushed up.

Okay… I didn’t understand her sudden interest in this one particular flower. It was just like all the other flowers scattered across the gravel.

It’s different, she said, as if answering my thoughts. It looks like it bled to death.

My eyes met Uncle Phil’s in the rearview mirror. Without saying anything, Uncle Phil stopped the car a few feet away from the flower. As I looked closer at the flower, craning my neck out of the window, the battered flower came into better focus. The flower’s red center looked runny and stained the white petals. But how in the world could Ava see that small detail all the way down the road? I was a few feet from it and still struggled to make it out, and probably wouldn’t have noticed it this close if Ava hadn’t pointed it out.

What are you doing? I yelped as Ava pushed open her door and stepped out of the car. I couldn’t explain it, but uneasiness was wriggling over my skin. Every instinct told me to get out of the car and drag Ava back.

She didn’t answer as she crouched down beside the flower and picked it up. A blank expression swept over her face. She seemed to be seeing something neither me nor Uncle Phil could. To my astonishment, the pinkish hue on the petals of the flower withdrew into the center once more. Maybe it was a trick of the light, but the flower glowed faintly with a silvery light as the torn petals knitted themselves together. Before I could confirm this, Uncle Phil slammed his hand down on the horn. Ava and I jumped. Ava made a fist and tossed the flower over her shoulder.

Uncle Phil’s hands gripped the wheel tightly, turning his knuckles as pale as the flowers surrounding us in the thick gloom filling the car as Ava climbed back into the car. Both of their faces looked utterly troubled. Ava’s eyes still looked slightly vacant as she leaned back in the seat.

Okay, I said somewhat nervously, Why are we tripping over a flower? Mom and Dad must’ve driven over it on the way home.

You’re right, Uncle Phil said, stepping hard on the gas. I flew back as Uncle Phil raced the car up the remaining distance to the house.

What in the world are you—

Oh my God, Hektor, look!

The front door of our house hung open, sagging against the house. The glass from the storm door lay like snow across the porch and steps. Mom’s car was parked crazily alongside the steps as if she had thrown it into the space and got out in a hurry.

Y’all stay here. Uncle Phil flung his door open and scrambled out of the car.

Yeah, right. I tossed the McDonald’s bag to one side and hopped out.

Ava got out as well.

Ava, no.

Shut up. She cut across me and followed us into the house. She reached out and grabbed my arm. I jumped as an intense electric shock arced from her fingers into my arm. I looked over at her, but she appeared not to have noticed anything. The hand not wrapped around my forearm trembled and glowed with a faint silver light around her nails as we walked farther into the house. The TV was on the news channel, showing coverage of the game.

Mom, Ava called out as we passed the stairs and headed toward the kitchen.

Shut up, I whispered, putting my hand over her mouth. She pushed my hand away angrily. Another shock, much stronger than the first, knifed through my arm, making it go numb.

Dang, you hit me in my funny bone or something. I gritted my teeth as I tried to rub feeling back into my arm. Uncle Phil glared at us.

I really need y’all to be quiet.

Ava, apparently having had enough of this creeping-around mess, pushed past me and placed her small hand on the door leading into the kitchen. The kitchen door swung open, revealing the kitchen in perfect condition. There wasn’t anything out of place. Uncle Phil crossed to the back door, raising the shade to look out. Apparently finding nothing, he said, Stay right here, and disappeared out the back door.

Weird. Where do you think they are? Not getting a reply, I turned to look at the spot where she stood a moment ago. She still stood there, but obviously hadn’t heard what I said. Ava, I said sharply, stepping closer and grabbing her shoulder to shake her. Her eyes, blank once more, moved side to side as if she read something in midair. She was really starting to freak me out.

Someone was here, she said softly, still with that odd look in her eyes.

Ava, I began, but just then her hand jerked up, pointing back down the hallway.

Mom! she screamed, suddenly snapping back to reality. My heart plummeted to land somewhere in my stomach.

Our mother and father lay on the hallway floor with blood pooling around their bodies. I ran in slow motion until I reached their sides, dragging Ava with me. I fell to my knees. I felt, rather than saw,