Her Brother's Keeper (27 page)

She made one last run through Ethan's things, without actually unpacking all the boxes, and decided that she wasn't going to discover anything new about his death. She was a little worried that her black-and-white friend might still be lurking around, and being here made her sad, so she took one last look before closing the door behind her.

She looked around outside, and when she didn't see her smelly intruder, she sat down on a porch step. As she stared out at the trees in the yard, she couldn't help but wonder which one Ethan had chosen. She dialed Ryan's number.

After reiterating how much she'd enjoyed dinner, Charlotte got to what was on her mind. “I've been thinking . . . if Ethan hadn't died, I would have never come here.”

“Probably not.”

“Or if I had come here, it would have been for a short visit, and I probably wouldn't have found a family of friends. Or a relationship with God. It makes me believe that Ethan's death wasn't in vain. Do you think that sometimes God allows a life to be taken because He knows that a person's passing will have a positive impact on other people's lives?”

“I don't know, but He gave His only Son for all of us,
so I guess it's probably true. Scripture says we all live a complete life. I try to remind myself of this when I see a young child die. For some people, it takes eighty or ninety years to live a complete life. For others, they might live a complete life in four years, but still accomplish all they were supposed to. So, it stands to reason that Ethan lived a complete life as well.”

“But did he? What if by using his free will, Ethan interrupted God's plan for his life?”

Ryan was quiet for a few moments. “Charlotte, my first thought is that you need to pray about this. We all have questions. We all have worries. And depending on who you talk to, you can get a host of responses from well-intentioned, godly people.”

“Something else is still bothering me.” She stretched her legs out across the two lower steps. “I'm pretty sure Jacob knows that I'm not Amish. I don't think he knows I'm Ethan's sister, but I think he might have heard just enough to know I've been lying.”

“Uh oh.”

“But, if he overheard, he's staying quiet about it. I sort of hinted that I knew he snuck out of the house sometimes, so maybe that's why he is keeping my secret. I think Amos and Lena would be furious if they knew what he was doing.” She paused. “Although, they do have this thing they call a
rumschpringe
. When a person turns sixteen, they get to run around and experience the outside world. Hannah told me that parents tend to look the
other way. Although Hannah also said that Amos was pretty strict with her, so I don't know.”

“Well, you're going to tell them soon enough, and if Jacob hasn't said anything before now, he probably won't.”

“Hannah wants me to stay for something called a mud sale in a couple of weeks, but I don't know. I think I'd fold before then and tell them the truth. I am never going to tell another lie again in my life.”

Ryan chuckled. “Yeah, you will. Even if it's a tiny white lie that just slips out. But I think it's great that you feel that way.”

“I'm just terrified about how they will react when they find out I'm Ethan's sister.”

“I don't know. If I had to guess, I'd say they will be really mad at first, but then they will forgive you. It's their way. And once you tell them the reasoning behind your lies, they'll understand. I'm sure they've grown to love the Charlotte the rest of us know and love.”

Charlotte's heart did a little dance. It wasn't exactly an admission of Ryan's affection for her, but there did seem to be some sort of subtext in his comment. She let out a heavy breath. “I hope you're right. I'm not looking forward to having that conversation with them.” She stood up, took a last look at the house, then stepped down off the porch. “I guess I better go. I'll let you know when I book a flight.”

She ended the call, then started back down the road toward home. She liked the way that sounded, even
though she knew it wasn't her true home. She was considering staying for the mud sale in Gordonville. It seemed important to Hannah, although she was also anxious to spend some time with Ryan and see where that might go. And freelance projects were coming in that she'd better start soon.

She glanced up at the sky, recalling the image she'd seen form in the clouds. No way was that a coincidence. She was choosing to believe that Ethan was in heaven. That would be the one good thing that would come out of telling them all the truth—she could tell Hannah what she saw, and anyone who knew Ethan well would know the significance of this sign. She wasn't sure whether or not to tell Hannah about the picture of Edna Glick and what she'd learned. Whether or not it was a one-night stand or an ongoing relationship, it seemed cruel to tell Hannah over a year later when she was starting to move forward with her life.

By the time she got home, she'd worked up an appetite, and Hannah's cookies were calling her name. Charlotte was glad they didn't keep a scale in the house. She'd face her own scale when she got home, then get back on a schedule at the gym. She'd have her memories to take with her. And God. It amazed her how Ethan had found this place, these people.
Why would you leave all this?

Charlotte saw that Jacob and Amos were home early. Their large work boots were by the front door when she walked in, and the familiar smell of manure and hay
wafted up her nose. But she'd barely closed the door behind her when she gasped and stopped in her tracks.

Amos, Lena, Jacob, and Hannah were all standing together. And beside them were Charlotte's suitcases.

Charlotte looked at each family member. Lena and Hannah were sniffling, but wouldn't look at her. Jacob had his arms folded across his chest, and he was having no trouble looking at Charlotte—glaring at her. As usual, Amos's expression was unreadable, but he took a step toward her and handed her the yellow pad. Charlotte wished the floor would swallow her up as she took the tablet. Maybe she should have felt relief that she wouldn't have to lie anymore, but her heart raced as panic set in.

“I know this looks bad, and I've wanted to tell you all the truth for a long time.” It had been a good while since she'd written a letter to Ethan, and she was frantically trying to remember what was on the yellow pad. Tears filled her eyes so that as she flipped through the first few pages, she could barely read anything. Her bottom lip trembled as she caught bits and pieces.

I've sent letters to Hannah, and while your fiancée did write me back, her notes were brief and offered no explanation. None of my phone calls were answered or returned either. Since I'm not getting any answers, I've decided to spend some time in Lancaster County, to live among the Amish, as one of them. Yes, it's deceitful, but I have to know the truth. From what I've read about
the Amish, they aren't very trusting and aren't fond of outsiders. Maybe this is why, after you became a member of their group, you detached yourself from the people who love you. Either way, I'm not above playing dress-up and telling a few lies to find out what happened to my only brother.

“I wanted to tell you the truth,” she said again, “. . . that I'm not Amish, but then I grew to love all of you.” She paused as a tear slipped down her cheek. “I learned about God while being here. I've made friends.” She pointed to Hannah, but Hannah wouldn't look at her. Even Jacob turned away from her. But Amos's eyes fired daggers at her.

“You will leave our home now. We have called a car for you.” Amos held up a hand when Charlotte opened her mouth to speak, shaking his head. “No more upset for my family.”

Charlotte looked at Hannah, noticing she was holding the recipe box, along with the heart-shaped potholders. “Hannah, please . . .”

“You will go!” Amos took a forceful step toward her.

She thought about all the times Ryan had said the Amish were forgiving. “What about forgiveness? Don't you even want to know why I'm here, why I came here under disguise?”

Jacob tossed something at her feet. “We know who you are.”

Charlotte reached down and picked up her driver's license as tears poured down her cheeks. “I wanted to know why my brother hanged himself. You can't fault me for that! That's all I ever wanted to know.”

Amos took another step toward her and pointed to the door, and Jacob picked up two of her suitcases. “Your secret was a lot bigger than mine,” he said in an angry whisper as he brushed past her.

“Why didn't you just ask us?” Hannah asked in a loud voice. Lena put a hand on her daughter's arm, shaking her head.

“Because I didn't know what happened,” Charlotte said, desperate for them to understand. “I didn't know if you broke up with Ethan, if you broke his heart so badly that he killed himself. I just wanted to understand and—”

“Leave here!” Amos was directly in front of her. “Go now.”

Charlotte eased around Amos to Hannah. “I'm so sorry. Please, Hannah.”

“You need to go, Mary.” Lena sighed. “I mean,
Charlotte
.”

Hannah wouldn't look at Charlotte, and after a few moments, she ran upstairs. With the exception of when Ethan died, Charlotte hadn't felt this bad since she and Ethan had been separated and sent to different foster homes.

Once Jacob had put the last of her things out in the grass, he came back inside and stood beside his father, both with arms folded across their chests, scowling. Lena
dabbed at her eyes with a tissue, stared long and hard at Charlotte, then she also went upstairs.

“I'm sorry,” Charlotte said in a choked whisper. “For everything . . .” She finally spun around and ran out the door. Sitting down on one of her suitcases, she buried her face in her hands and wept, wondering if the outcome would have been different if Charlotte had confessed before they'd found out. At least they wouldn't have read her letters to Ethan and private journal entries.

She stood up, tempted to go back inside and make a final plea, but the look on Amos's face as he stood on the other side of the screen door kept her from moving. She glanced up toward the second story and saw Hannah. Even in the distance Charlotte could see her sobbing. “I'm sorry!” she yelled upward to Hannah. It was then that Amos slammed the door.

Forgiving? Really, Ryan?
They can forgive people who murder their children, but they can't forgive me? She looked up at the clouds.
Why, God? Why did You let this happen?
She wondered if God would be with her when she left this place, or if He would forsake her as well. She turned around when she heard the door open. It was Hannah, carrying something. Charlotte hoped it was the recipe box and potholders. But as Hannah got closer, Charlotte could see that she was carrying a small book.

“Here.” Hannah handed it to Charlotte. “Since you seem to believe that you are your brother's only keeper, maybe this will make sense to you.”

Charlotte held the book in her hands, then instinctively held it to her nose, as if she might breathe in the scent of Ethan. “His Bible?”

Hannah wasn't crying anymore as she shook her head. “
Nee
. I don't know what it is. I found the book at his house, but it must be in another language. Maybe you will know how to read it. Maybe it will give you the answers you are looking for.”

Charlotte studied the brown leather book, then looked up at Hannah, knowing she would drop to her knees and beg if Hannah would forgive her. Instead, she opened the book to the first page, and right away she knew that it was meant for her, or at the very least . . . it was not meant for Hannah.

“You went to a lot of trouble and told a lot of lies to find out why Ethan killed himself. It must be very important to you to understand.”

“Of course it is. Don't you want to know?” Charlotte thought about the picture and the note on the back.

Hannah offered a weak smile. “I don't think any of us truly knows what goes on inside someone's head . . . or heart.” She paused. “I'm sorry things worked out this way. You could have just walked up to the door, said you were Ethan's sister, and I would have told you anything you wanted to know.”

Charlotte hung her head, kicking the grass with her black loafer, knowing it would be the last time she'd wear the shoes. “I thought maybe you'd brainwashed him
somehow.” She looked up. “It wasn't until I spent time here that I realized that . . . that your people . . . well, you're the real deal. I didn't know God before I got here.” When Hannah didn't say anything, Charlotte went on. “Why can't you and your family forgive me, like you talk about in devotions, how God forgives all of our sins?” Charlotte was surprised when a tear slid down her cheek since she was sure she didn't have any left.

“We're human, Mary.” Hannah sighed. “I mean Charlotte. In time, we will forgive. I will be praying about it—and for you—constantly. Ethan loved you very much. I'd always wanted to meet you. At least I did before he died and you forced us to send his body to you against his wishes.”

Charlotte swiped at her eyes, longing for a hug, but knowing one wasn't coming. She turned toward the road when she heard a car coming. “I guess that's my ride.”

Hannah blinked back tears. “
Ya
. God's peace, Charlotte.” And she headed toward the house.

Charlotte turned away from Hannah and waited for the blue car. But then she remembered something and spun around. “Hannah, wait.”

Hannah stopped and slowly turned around.

“The day we looked for pictures in the clouds, I saw something.”

Hannah took a few steps closer to her, but didn't say anything.

“You said you've always wondered if Ethan was in
heaven, and for me . . . at that time . . . I wasn't even sure there was a God or heaven. But all of a sudden, the clouds seemed to split open and plain as day I saw butterflies, and I knew it was Ethan telling me that he was in heaven. I couldn't tell you at the time, but anyone who knows Ethan knows that—”