Chapter 4The Fault Line: Buried in the Rubble with My Sister

At dinner time, Dad returned to the hospital with three takeout boxes.

He handed one to me, one to Mom, and kept one for himself. None for Savannah.

"Where's mine?" she snapped.

Dad didn't even look up as he opened his styrofoam container. "You just got out of major surgery and you've been in a coma for days. The doctor said you're strictly on a liquid diet. I'll get you some broth from the cafeteria later."

Savannah froze. "What surgery? What are you talking about?"

The three of us stopped eating.

She really didn't know.

When no one answered, the panic set in. Her voice spiraled into a hysterical shriek. "Tell me! What surgery did I have?!"

Mom slammed her fork down, clearly out of patience. She marched over to the bed and ripped the hospital blanket back.

Where Savannah's legs should have been, the mattress was flat and empty.

Savannah’s mouth fell open in a silent scream. Tears began streaming down her face.

It was a total, soundless psychological break.

But Mom wasn't done. She pulled out her phone, opened the camera app, and shoved the screen right into Savannah's face.

Savannah saw the jagged, hideous scars crisscrossing her cheeks.

She completely lost her mind.

She clutched her face, screaming so loudly a nurse ran in.

"Keep it down! This is a recovery ward! You're disturbing the other patients!"

Savannah’s face was ashen. She violently shook her head, whispering, "No. No, this isn't real. They pulled me out! How is this possible?!"

I quietly ate my mashed potatoes, watching the standoff between them.

The resentment in Mom's heart ran deep. Being told she was a worthless housewife by the child she worshipped had broken something inside her.

Mom crossed her arms and sneered. "Did you really think you were going to walk out of that rubble and go back to your perfect little life?

"You told your dad to find a new wife? Look at you! If your dad left me, he'd leave you in a heartbeat. Who wants to take care of half a person?

"I gave you everything, and you left me to die like a dog. You make me sick."

Dad hastily put down his food and walked over to Mom, desperate to play the loyal husband. "Linda, honey, I never wanted to leave you. She was just screaming and I panicked. My heart breaks for her, that's all."

Mom shot him a venomous glare. "When I was buried, Harper was the only one screaming that she wouldn't give up on me. Don't treat me like an idiot."

They kept arguing. I finished my dinner in peace.

Since our apartment was a pile of rubble, FEMA hooked Dad up with a temporary trailer in a disaster relief park outside the city limits.

When Savannah was finally discharged, we moved into the cramped aluminum box.

Because of her amputations, Savannah required round-the-clock care.

Mom refused to touch her. Dad had to go back to his construction job.

Which meant the burden fell squarely on me.

Savannah seemed to take a sick pleasure in bossing me around, making me empty her bedpan and fetch her water.

I quickly grew tired of the game.

One afternoon, Savannah yelled that she needed to use the bathroom. I stood outside by the hose, scrubbing a pot, pretending I couldn't hear her.

Dad was at work. Mom was at the grocery store. It was just the two of us.

A few minutes later, I heard a massive thud.

Mom pulled up in the driveway just as I ran inside. We both stopped dead in the doorway.

Savannah had tried to drag herself to the toilet and fallen. She was lying on the linoleum, covered in her own urine and feces.

Mom gagged and immediately stepped backward out the door.

She stood on the porch, taking deep breaths of fresh air, before finally forcing herself back inside.

Dad pulled up in his truck right then. He ignored the smell, waving a piece of paper at me. "Harper, I talked to the district. I got you a spot at the high school in the next town over."

I nodded and immediately left the trailer, leaving Mom and Savannah alone in the mess.

Humiliated beyond belief, Savannah started shoving Mom away when she tried to pick her up. She got filth all over Mom's shirt.

But Mom gritted her teeth, dragged her into the plastic shower stall, and started hosing her down.

Savannah sobbed the entire time. Mom didn't say a word, but she meticulously scrubbed her clean.

Blood is thicker than water. A mother's instinct to care for her broken child never truly vanishes.

But what about me? I thought bitterly. Why was it so easy for her to throw me away?