FOURTEEN YEARS AGO

(EVVIE 8 YEARS OLD)

A sticky saltiness floated on a gentle breeze. Wisps of clouds hovered around the high cliff's craggy edges as if they were too shy to stain the vibrant blue sky above the Pacific Ocean. The distant sound of seagulls calling while gliding on air currents accompanied the gentle lapping of water.

My long legs splashed through the surf and I delighted in the wet spray cooling my baking skin. The taste of brine washed across my tongue when seawater splattered across my open mouth. Warm air coursed around my limbs as I propelled into a jeté to leap across the waves. My tawny hair with the long ends of a neat pink ribbon gathered into a high ponytail, rippling with the movement.

My swim togs reminded me of a ballet leotard and were already dusted with sand. I loved ballet. The depth of feeling expressed through graceful limbs alone. My parents had finally agreed to lessons and my clothes had arrived the morning we'd left for our family adventure. I'd only had time to rip open the box and stroke my fingers longing over the leotard and tights, the frilly tutu and slippers, promising them I'd see them again when we returned, whereupon I'd meet my dance instructor and begin my lessons.

But here, today, this was all about my little sister.

Yesterday we'd flown to California in my family's Gulfstream. My little sister had been given a sedative before we'd left and she'd missed out on her very first aeroplane ride. While she slept I'd gripped the leather armrests, reveling in the roaring engines and the thrill of acceleration as we were thrust forward, racing down the tarmac. The bumpy liftoff. The eerie airborne feeling as we ascended, the tiny world below disappearing as we rose above the misty clouds.

Nelle had been put to sleep because my mother had been nervous about being trapped thousands of feet in the air with her daughter. If something should go wrong, we'd be at my little sister's mercy.

And here we were for one afternoon at the beachside.

My father had driven us from our vacation penthouse out of the choking city, through the quiet countryside, and onto winding roads that hugged the coast, until he found this secluded spot. There wasn't a single bodyguard in attendance either. I'd never known what it was like to have a day by ourselves without a guard or soldier standing nearby, sharp-eyed and silently keeping watch.

Today it was just my sisters and my parents.

We were down at a small alcove, the clay cliffs softened by tall green palms. Jagged boulders jutted out of the golden sand that led to the blue ocean—magnificent and endless.

At the high end of the beach, Lise waved out, catching my attention. She dug a candy-striped towel from her canvas bag and flicked it out, bending over to adjust the corners so it lay flat. Her pink sunglasses slid down her nose as she grimaced, wiping her fingers free from sand. Next she retrieved a comic book from her beach bag and stretched out on the towel, happy enough to spend the afternoon reading.

My father had his gray slacks rolled up. His bare feet sank into softness as he stepped off the cliff's zig-zag path that had led us down here. My mother held up the graceful folds of her summer dress with one hand, while her other gripped my father's, as he assisted her to the sand. They shared a genuine smile, a brief moment of affection before they turned to look where I stood amongst the low tide. Warm water rushed past my ankles, frothing up the beach to slowly drag back, leaving bubbles in its wake.

I leaped over seaweed thrown up onto the shore, avoided driftwood and upturned seashells, and began to run toward my family, faster when the soles of my feet were burned by piping hot sand.

My little sister stood on a half-buried hunk of bleached wood jittering from foot to foot, the tiny frills of her green bikini ruffling with her excitement. Her gray eyes were round like an owl's and her mouth gaped open as she gazed at the ocean behind me. She flung her little arms wide. "Fucking hells!"

My mother's mouth thinned, no longer shocked at the various curses my sister had picked up like a magpie. "Nelle Wychthorn, language. We don't use those kinds of words," she admonished.

Her narrowed gaze sliced to my father who rubbed his fingers over his mouth to hide the grin and raised a shoulder. "Ennio Battagli has been a frequent visitor of late."

Nelle was too caught in wonderment to apologize to Momma. She gasped, gesturing with her hands. "It's so big."

I came to a standstill before our little family group. "Lise?" I asked, puffing and catching my breath. I pointed a forefinger over my shoulder toward the sea. My elder sister glanced to the water, scrunched her nose, and her mouth puckered as she shook her head no.

"Nelle?" I asked, rounding to face her.

My younger sister jumped down from the log and beamed a crooked grin, flashing a mouthful of baby teeth with a missing front tooth.

I braced my hands on my hips. "I'll race you to the water."

Delight and challenge lit up her eyes and she nodded eagerly.

I spun around to stand flush with her and dropped into a runner's stance. The blue water beckoned with rolling waves for us to come join it. I eyed my little sister sidelong. "On your mark, get set..." And before I even said go my cheeky sister took off running, her bright laugh tinkling in the salty air.

Nelle was five years old and tiny for her age, but she could move like the wind and had a temper to match a howling rainstorm. She barrelled down the beach, her long pale hair bouncing around her shoulders and whipping against her back. Her arms pumped and her feet flicked up sand as she raced toward the water.

I let her get a good start before pushing into motion, and then I was flying across the gentle ripples of sand dunes, chasing my little sister down. "I'll catch you!" I cried out. "I'll beat you to the water!"

"No, no, no!" she yelled back in her pipsqueak voice, choking out a laugh. "I'm first. I'm gonna win!"

Of course little sister, of course.

I had the graceful spring of a gazelle. A dancer's poise. I could easily bound across the beach and beat her at this game. But I kept my pace in check so she'd surge ahead and win.

Nelle raced in and water sprayed everywhere. Her shriek of delight rang through the air. She gasped with astonishment as water splashed up her legs and droplets scattered like rainfall on her body and caught across her lips. She went stock-still as the tip of her tongue licked out. I knew the salty shock would zing across her tongue. A riot of emotions tumbled across her open expression at being immersed in new sensations. Her grin grew wider as she glanced downward. Calf muscles tightened as she dug her toes into the sandy seabed.

My feet met wet sand, firmer closer to the tide line as the waves lazily washed in. "Nelle!" I yelled out, laughing and waving an arm at her. "You win!"

It was the excitement of standing in something so extraordinary I expect.

One minute my little sister was there—

The next—

An explosion of flames.

Nelle disappeared into the blazing heart of an inferno.

A wall of energy, a conflicting wave of heat and icy air slammed against my body and sent me flying backward. My back met wet sand, the air thumped from my lungs, and my front burned with pain.

Against the deafening noise of roaring flames I heard Lise's shrill scream. My mother crying out, "Evvie! Evvie!"

A groan climbed up my throat and my dazed head whirled as I sluggishly pushed to sit up.

I slapped a forearm across my face, rearing away from the brilliance of the bonfire obliterating Nelle's figure. Peering through slitted eyes, the waves of heat and ice flailed my hair, raked across my body, as I tried to understand what I was looking at. I'd never seen anything like it. It was unearthly the flames—silver woven with gold. The fire stretched skyward, fierce against the blue sky, so bright and all-consuming as if the sun had descended to burn upon the shore. The ocean roiled and spat like a pot of water left on the stove to boil. Banks of steam rolled outward and slender strands of fire curved upward like flaming arrows to stud the beach near my feet.

We all knew there was something odd about Nelle. Sometimes we could detect the slightest tremble of the earth when she lost her temper or a cool wind was stirred in a room without windows.

But fire...?

It was my father's panicked voice, bellowing, "NELLE! NELLE! NELLE!" that pulled my gaze over my blistered shoulder. While my mother had drawn back, my father sprinted across the dunes. Terror for his youngest daughter was etched upon his features, but there was determination too. And completely unmindful at what he was racing toward.

I got to my feet, swaying and ducking at the rolling waves of fierce energy, calling out to my little sister. "Nelle!"

As abruptly as the fire came—

The flames winked out.

Black smoke plumed upward and the water stopped seething as a fire-stirred ocean wave crashed through the surf.

Through the sheen of smoke, Nelle stood in the shallows trembling with shock. Tears rolled down her pale cheeks as her chest heaved with terrified sobs and choked wails. She crumpled into the water, her head bowed and all the wild pale hair fell forward and hid her from me.

My father circled the beach wide, plunged through the tide to approach my sister from the side. He hissed at the heat I imagined still caught up in the water but it didn't hold him back. He fell to his knees beside her, scooping up her tiny figure and cradled her across his lap. She desperately clutched his shirt with a shaking hand, while he brushed away the wet locks plastered across her face. "Calm, Nelle, Calm." He kissed her forehead. "I've got you sweetheart. I've got you."

My gaze was pulled away from my father and sister by something twinkling through the streams of black smoke rising from the beach that thinned away and disappeared. I jerked aside at the fierce reflection of sunlight on a polished surface.

Raising a hand in front of my face, I splayed my fingers to protect my eyes and squinted at the beach right in front of Nelle.

It was as wondrous and enchanting as it was eerie.

Where Nelle's fire had reached, where it had raged and spat vicious flames, her wrathful might had melted the sand to glass.

Glass.

Further up the beach in scattered spots as if lightning had struck, were glass formations. Near my foot was something small and tainted blue. I bent lower, the chemicals permeating the air were a bitter taste in my lungs. While my ears were filled with the tearful sounds of my little sister, and father's deep voice soothing her with sweet nothings, I dug around the patch of sand.

I felt its residual heat, but my fingers were protected by the clump of sand sticking to its shape as I picked it up. Hurrying to the ocean, I let water wash across my cupped palm to cool the glass down and clean away the grains of sand. Pinching the sharp edges carefully between my fingers I raised it to the sky. An astonished gasp left my throat.

A glass teardrop.

As perfect as my sister with its imperfect form.