Here’s what I know about our people:
Your dad is dead and has been since well before the Apocalypse. It’s a shame you won’t remember him. Sometimes I like to entertain myself with the idea that perhaps he’s been reincarnated and is now one of your fellow monks.
You have no aunts or uncles on my side. But on your father’s side of the family, your half-brother Mason and his wife, Eve, were alive and on vacation in Brazil when the Series of Unpleasant Catastrophes began. (Let’s just call them SUCs from now on, since they did in fact suck.)
I talked to Eve after the third wave in the series. She said she and Mason and the kids were personally unharmed, though their Brazilian hosts were dropping like flies. Since neither Eve nor Mason excel at Portugese, they couldn’t get a grasp on what was going on. I told her knowing Portugese wouldn’t help. None of us understood what was happening.
The thing is, since that conversation, I haven’t heard from Eve.
Jill Riddell is a writer in Chicago. She teaches at the School of the Art Institute and has a weakness for nature, magic, and pennies abandoned in sidewalk cracks.