Sunday evening, March 22nd, 2020

I'm upstairs doing my homework when the argument starts.

When Nix was alive my parents rarely argued about anything.

Sure, they had the occasional bicker over who forgot to put the bins out and who left the toilet seat up, but I'd never seen them have a screaming match with each other until after the funeral.

I always thought it was because they were just really in love but I soon realised that just because you loved someone, didn't mean you weren't going to argue.

I tentatively pad out of my room and peer into the kitchen. They're both facing each other. My father's back is to me whilst my mother stands with her hands on her hips.

"Why would you bring this into our house?" my mother shouts, her finger pointed towards something sitting flat against the bench.

"I just wanted to see what they had to say!" my father answers, his voice booming. "It should be a crime that they can still report on this!"

"Would you keep your voice down? The last thing we need if for—"

"For me to hear you?" I deadpan, walking into the kitchen, one eyebrow raised. "If you didn't want me to know you were fighting, you should probably learn how to whisper."

Before my mother can protest, I walk over to the bench and lean over to see what has them so worked up. My heart instantly sinks.

The Bakley Telegraph Sunday edition newspaper is the first thing that sends off alarm bells in my head. The second is the front-page headline.

THE DARK PHOENIX MASSACRE: NEARLY FIVE MONTHS ON.

"Shit," I mumble, picking up the paper with shaky hands.

I quickly scan the front-page, noticing words like the tragedy of the year and top-ten worst teen killers of all time. The last thing I notice, written neatly at the bottom, is the author's name.

Laurel Bishop. Kennedy's mother.

It was weird to think that I had only met Laurel last night. She was a kind enough person but unbeknownst to her, she was reporting on a story that had completely ruined my family.

"Oh god," I breathe, dropping the paper back onto the bench. I take a step back until I hit the bench behind me.

"We didn't want you to see it," my mother whispers, her voice grave.

"It's a bit late for that, don't you think?" I snap, my voice harsh.

"Don't get angry at your mother," my father says sternly. "It isn't anyone's fault here that they've decided to continue to run this outdated story."

I roll my eyes at my dad's ironic words. Moments ago they had been arguing about the paper and now he was telling me not to snap at them?

Realisation suddenly dawns on me that this could ruin everything once again. I hadn't even bothered to read the details.

"Do they know that we live here then?" I croak.

My mother shakes her head furiously. "No. It doesn't mention anything new. It's just rehashing the events of last year. It hardly mentions us and there isn't any reference of you, Lonnie."

I breathe a sigh of relief. My family was safe from the public eye for another day. Thank god we had changed our last name. Thank god I'm a minor too.

"So it's just a coincidence that the town we are now living in decides to run a story about Nix?"

"Yes," my mother sighs, "a terrible, terrible coincidence."

I could feel the weight on my chest lifting slightly, but not much. This was still bad. It meant that people were still talking about it, that people were still intrigued enough to read the same story again.

"So they don't know about us, right? They don't know where we moved? That we changed our last name?"

My father pats my shoulder reassuringly. "No. We're safe here, Lonnie. But this does mean that we should keep our heads down for a bit. We just need to be more careful."

I nod, my eyes falling to the floor.

I knew that when you Googled my brother, deep into the web you could find articles on my parents. Some even had photos of them, ones where they were finishing their days at work and getting into their cars. Some when they were out shopping.

For the first month, after everything happened, we had news reporters camped out on our lawn. They always had to blur out my face, but they didn't have to for my parents.

It would only take one person to start snooping again and they'd find out who my parents were.

I look back over at the front-page of the newspaper. The entire thing is covered with Nix's face, his school picture from last year.

"What if— what if someone notices the resemblance?" I panic. "People were always saying how much we looked like twins."

For a moment I watch terror cross over my mother's face but she waves her hands in the air like my comment doesn't matter.

"Nonsense. Besides, even if someone did think you look alike they won't find any evidence that you're related."

I wanted to tell her that if someone tried hard enough that they probably would be able to find something out about me being related to Nix.

The internet is a powerful thing.

"We just need to forget this happened," my father says sternly, snatching the paper up and storming over to the bin.

"Forget it happened?" I laugh bitterly. "How can we forget that any of this has happened?"

"I didn't mean last November, London. I meant today. The article."

I knew what he meant but I couldn't help but think about the double meaning behind his words.

"Oh, please," I growl. "Don't pretend that you and mum haven't completely tried to forget all about Nix."

My mother recoils like I've hit her.

"You both tiptoe around me like I'm going to break. You weren't even going to tell me about this newspaper, were you?"

"Lon—"

"No, dad! Don't!" I shout.

I didn't often fight with my parents, especially not about Nix. It was just easier to pretend that everything was okay. But now I'd had enough.

"You don't get to baby me. You think I can't handle the truth. I was the one who had to fucking identify his body in the morgue, remember?"

"London McLaren. Will you follow me, please?"

"What will I have to do?"

"Once we fold back the cover, we'll just need you to identify if the body is Phoenix McLaren, your brother."

My father's face completely drops and I can tell that he's trying to hold in his anger.

"You do not need to remind us of the things your mother and I cannot change! We wish more than anything that we hadn't been away when it all happened. But, London, we cannot change the past."

"Are you sure you want to do this?"

"My parents aren't...my parents are on their anniversary holiday."

"But--"

"I just want to get this over with. Please? I just...I...I can't--"

"Okay, London. It's okay."

I throw my hands up in the air, exasperated. "You think I don't know that? You two are the ones that walk around, trying to pretend that everything is fine, when it isn't! Nix died! He—"

"Lon—"

"He died and now you think that I'm going to turn out exactly like him! I see it on your faces every day! You're suffocating me! You aren't letting me do anything anymore because your afraid that I'm going to turn out just like Nix."

My mother shakes her head, tears cascading down her face. "That isn't true, honey. We know that you won't...do that. We just want to protect you from harm. From other people harming you."

"That's bullshit," I cry. "You didn't think Nix could ever be capable of the things he did, yet he committed murder. So what makes me any better, right? What makes you think I won't do the same thing, right?"

My father shakes his head, taking a step closer to me. I pull back, holding out my hands to stop him from coming any closer.

"You're both terrified that you don't know me either. You can't trust me so you think that keeping me from the rest of the world will make it easier on you."

"Lon—"

"Let me finish, mum. Please."

She nods at me, closing her eyes.

"Don't you understand that you do know the real me? Don't you understand that I have never been anyone but myself around the both of you? But now I feel like I have to be someone different. Someone who is happy and never keeps small secrets that hardly matter."

They're both silent and I know that I've hit the jackpot. They might not want to admit it to my face but they've both been keeping me under tight constraints to watch me closely.

"You both need to realise that I'll be eighteen soon and that you can't keep watch of me forever. But I want you to know that you can trust me. I just wish I didn't have to tell you that."

I start to walk out but stop when I remember something else.

"One more thing," I whisper to them. "I hope you realise that I'm not resentful. I don't blame you for not being here when everything happened. Yes, seeing Nix's body almost destroyed me but it was something that has only made me more resilient now."

They won't meet my eyes so I leave it at that, hiding away in my bedroom for the rest of the night.

A lot was said tonight, but it still wasn't the end of it. So much needed to be fixed in my family but it was going to take time.

I'd just have to learn to respect that.