Echoes beneath the canopy

The atmosphere feels thick with an unsettling presence, like a tightening noose constricting her skin.

Her body is there, my sister's body. I stand in silence, waiting for her to blink, hoping she'll step down from the railing and dismiss this as a mere joke or prank.

But she doesn't.

Our eyes lock in a continuous state of panic.

My hand moves from my chest to my mouth, then extends toward her. She swings back and forth, each swing diminishing, mirroring the growing intensity of my breaths.

I shut my eyes and collapse onto the ground, releasing a scream that drains all the air from my lungs.

"Azura!"

...

Four hours earlier...

"Can you and Alora give Ahren a ride home, Azura?" Ahren's mom disconnects her phone from the car's audio system, creating a loud pop sound. She smiles as she observes them standing together.

My sister and Ahren make a striking couple. He looks like a high school football star, while she is tall and blonde, as if she's been taken from the pages of Vogue and placed in our peaceful Palawan town.

Zaven tugs at my cardigan. "My nail came off."

"Ugh," I exclaim, reaching into my bag and handing him a roll of bandages. I accidentally tore off my little toe's nail while practicing at home last night, which is either a hazard of the trade or a sign that I need to reevaluate my ballet technique.

"Don't tease me! If I can't share these things with my dance partner, then who can I share them with?" His nail looks awful. As he removes his sock completely, we both wince. "Alora!"

"Quit complaining," Azura says with a chuckle. She kneels down and begins to apply a bandage to his toe. "You'd think that after all these years, you two would have grown accustomed to-"

"Azura, you can't just get used to stubbed toes."

She hands Zaven his sock and tells Ahren's mom, "Miss Mac, we'll drop him off after dinner."

"Sounds good! Enjoy yourselves, kids!"

Once Ahren's mom leaves the studio, he wraps his arms around Azura's waist. His cheeks turn deep red, and his bright blue eyes remain fixed on my sister. However, she seems lost in thought or captivated by something outside in the forest.

Zaven stands up as Azura awkwardly pushes Ahren away and says, "I'll leave you to deal with...whatever that is."

"Thanks," I reply, giving him a quick hug and reminding him, "Text me when you get home, Goose."

"Will do, Mav."

The car ride home feels oddly tense now that Ahren is seated in the back. I sit upfront with Azura, who hasn't uttered a word since we left my rehearsal. Her fingers are pale as they grip the wheel. I glance down to ensure her seatbelt is still fastened.

"Hmm?" She looks at me and asks, "Alora, did you say something?"

I fumble over my words. I hadn't actually spoken aloud. "Are you okay? You seem a bit distracted."

"I'm fine," she insists, although her forced smile suggests otherwise.

Ahren and I exchange glances. He gives me a frustrated shrug and sinks back into his seat. This dinner is turning out to be quite interesting.

But this isn't new. It's been this way for a while now, this sudden change. One moment she's her cheerful self, and the next... it's like talking to her underwater.

My sister has changed. It's evident. It has been progressively worsening since we returned from summer break and started our senior year.

I know that Azura has always been drawn to unconventional interests. She and her theater friends dabble in their version of white magic, something I used to consider a rebellious hobby or a bit of Mother Earth mysticism from hippies. But it was never an issue before. Azura is a good person, as are her friends. I know this.

I don't understand why she changed. This uncertainty gave me the courage to sneak into her room and sift through her belongings. I don't know why she transformed from my fearless, outgoing sister into someone shyer and quieter than even me. I don't know why she no longer wants to be with Ahren, her childhood sweetheart.

I can't grasp how we've gone from being inseparable best friends to sisters who hardly exchange a word. I can't pinpoint when Azura stopped talking to me, but it's undeniable that she has distanced herself.

In a typical family, siblings can keep secrets from each other without causing concern, but our family doesn't follow that pattern. Our parents consist of a hardworking father dedicated to his business and a mother who wholeheartedly adores him. Azura and I are the product of their commitment to each other, and while they do care about us, their devotion to each other has always come first.

After reading our father's text, I softly mentioned, "Mom is preparing arroz con habichuelas."

"Thank goodness," Azura responded as she drove down our long gravel driveway.

"Thanks, Mom," she added. "Primera-Mama," I teased her with a chuckle. "Segundo-Dios."

"Be careful now," I playfully warned her with a wrist slap. "You might get into trouble speaking like that."