“Cain, can you show me security footage from my twelfth birthday?”
“Showing Dona and Wyatt’s twelfth birthday party,” Cain replied as the footage appeared on a screen. I couldn’t look away from my mother on the screen as she took off my blindfold. I was already on edge from her boot camp, so upon realizing I was home, I was emotional and tired. I had just wanted to cry. I watched as Dona ran and hugged me tightly and as we walked through the front door, every surface covered in presents and action figures. Grinning, I watched my twelve-year-old self try to peel Dona off of me, her puffy dress scratching my arms. The more I struggled, the more she held on, and because she was a little tyrant, she called for a cannon ball. Obliging her, Helen, Sedric, Darcy, and Nari all tackled me.
“Urgh, guys, I’m sore,” I said to the video, knowing that wouldn’t change anything, when the camera suddenly focused on Ethan’s face.
“Cain, is there volume?” I asked.
“You have no more questions.”
Rolling my eyes, I watched intently, trying to remember what Ethan had said to me. Instead, I just watched as all my cousins and Dona got off me when he spoke…thank God, they were going to crush me—I started to think when I noticed my reaction to his words was what I remembered. For some reason, I was upset. I was snapping at him. Ethan just rolled his eyes at me and turned to walk away. Had I not been focusing on his lips, I would have missed it.
“Cain, rewind a second.”
I watched again as his lips muttered something as he turned away.
“Cain, rewind again.”
On the third time, I was sure. Part of me wished I wasn’t. I was tired of reflecting on what a little shit I was.
“Cain the password is…I missed you, too.”
“Password accepted,” Cain replied. I could only put my hand over my mouth, watching as the system unlocked. “Your access is unlocked. Welcome, Wyatt. How can I help?”
“Has anyone invented a time machine yet?” I asked sarcastically, forgetting sarcasm wasn’t apparently Cain’s strong suit.
“Searching…there are no journals or articles on the inventor of the time machine.”
“Never mind.” I was still looking at the screen. I couldn’t even remember my twelfth birthday clearly, and yet well over a decade later, it was still on his mind. I’d been upset, upset with my mother, with training. I’d missed being home…I’d missed Dona and Ethan. But I didn’t know how to say it then, so I lashed out…even when I came home this last time, did I tell him how I missed him? We were both horrible when it came to communicating with each other. Dona was our spokesperson… and most times, we just went on as if it never happened. I felt like I could never speak to him because it was like everyt
hing else. I struggled with it, and he exceled at it by nature.
“Cain, how many times did Ethan save me?”
“Opening Wyatt-related incidents folder for the last ten years.”
“Jesus fucking Christ, Ethan, you are so damn petty.” I had to laugh. Of course—not only would he record all of the times he’d saved my ass, but he’d also store them in a special fucking folder.
“What year would you like?”
I wanted to tell Cain to delete the folder…surely, he’d know that and wouldn’t let me delete it, right? “Delete the folder.”
“Access denied.”
I grinned. “Well, it’s good to know I know him as well as he knows me.”
“Cain, create an Ethan-related incidents folder.” Fuck it, I was petty, too. “Sub-folder this year. First file mark as Boston.”
No further explanation would be needed.
“Created.”
Nodding, I lifted up the files on the desk behind me. “New file marked Ivy, and pull up video feed from Airstrip 17453, at noon.”
“Should I play this video?” Looking up, I nodded—for a second forgetting I wasn’t talking to a real person.
“Play video.”
“Playing,” Cain stated, and I watched as Ivy spun around. “Pause,” I said, watching the bullet go through her head. “Rewind, play 3x slower, and zoom. Pause. Repeat last ten seconds.”