Tigers, Not Daughters - Samantha Mabry Page 0,7

her eyes were blurred. The waves in her hair had flattened. She was yelling at the people in their cars to stop honking their horns and shut up.

“Dad, please!” she gasped. “Iridian, do something. Help me!”

Iridian didn’t help. She didn’t move. Instead, she looked back at Rosa, who had left the dog in the yard and was now taking slow steps into the road.

Kitty Bolander’s mom was calling out her daughter’s name. When she finally reached her, she started to steer Kitty in the direction of home, but then stopped and put her hand on Iridian’s shoulder.

“I’m so sorry,” she said. “I know this day must be so hard for your family, especially your poor father.”

Mrs. Bolander was probably being sincere. Most everyone there probably felt genuinely sorry for Iridian and her family, but that didn’t make things any better. If anything, it made Iridian feel like the air was thinning out even more, like all these supposedly well-intentioned people were stealing it from her.

“Iridian!” Again, Mr. Garza honked his horn. “Rafe! Vámanos, man!”

Rafe couldn’t hear Mr. Garza. Rafe was lost. He was still crying, moaning about the pain in his heart and his lost, beautiful daughter. At last, he lifted his bleary gaze to Iridian, and for a moment, they stared at each other. He looked terrible, ill. There were bags around his eyes, large and swollen. His hair, usually pomaded and carefully slicked back, was stuck into spikes as if he’d been trying to yank it from his scalp.

His lips slid against each other. They puckered. He was trying to tell Iridian something, but he couldn’t get any words out. That was fine, because Iridian didn’t want to hear whatever it was he had to say. All she wanted was to get out of there.

“Rosa,” she croaked.

Rosa, the sister whose heart was crafted to ease the suffering of others, came forward, linked her arm with Iridian’s, and steered her away. When they were knitted together like this, Iridian felt safer. She didn’t even care about the dog’s bright blood transferring from Rosa’s skin onto hers.

“I think I might’ve felt it,” Rosa whispered excitedly, as the two of them turned back to the house. “Its spirit.”

“Where are you two going?” Jessica cried out, her voice going shrill. “Iridian, what the fuck? You can’t just leave me here with him!”

But that’s exactly what Iridian was doing. She didn’t even spare a glance over her shoulder.

“Iridian!” Jessica shouted. “Rosa! Get back here!”

“I hate him,” Iridian said to Rosa, quietly, so only her sister could hear.

“I know.”

“We loved her, too. It’s like he’s forgotten that.”

Rosa didn’t reply. The sisters kept walking, just the two of them, at a slow and steady pace back to their house.

“I hate him,” Iridian repeated. “He doesn’t deserve our help.”

“I know,” Rosa said.

“Iridian!” Behind them, Jessica was nearly hysterical. “You fucking coward!”

“Don’t pay attention to her.” Rosa leaned in. “Maybe just try to walk a little faster?”

Jessica

(Monday, June 10th)

Jessica really had to hand it to her dad. He always tried so hard to make his apologies appear convincing. There was the way he’d start off by looking each of his daughters in the eye, but then duck his head down real quick as if he were just so overcome with emotion. Or there was the way the sides of his mouth would dip into a big-ass frown, the exaggerated kind that a clown would paint on his face. Or there was his voice, how it would get all wobbly, like a kid who tripped on a curb but wanted you to think he was pushed off a building or some shit.

“Girls, listen,” Rafe said, staring down at the surface of the kitchen table. He’d even gone the extra mile and shaved that morning. A white strip of dried foam clung to his earlobe.

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t know how I’d be when yesterday came around, and I wasn’t myself. As you saw.” He paused, took a breath, shook his head slowly, and started running his pointer