Chapter 2

DAVINA

"Are you crying."

It wasn't a question, yet I denied it.

"I have to go. " I said as soon as I received the rest of the money.

"I know you, Davina " Timmy gripped my arm gently but hard enough to make me stop and look at him.

" Your impression. I muttered, already regretting having asked for his help."

"I doubt."

"We were friends, remember? I know every part of you. " One of the guys who was passing by and overheard the last bit of the conversation, let go The lascivious laughter, whistling and joking. I get angry and pull the arm.

Without looking back, I leave Timmy talking to himself. Got enough shit in my truck to worry about your feelings today, who knows, never. I go down the slope running, almost tripping over half a dozen balls of plastic scattered across the floor, balancing me at the last second.

"It has to be Davina "one of the boys growls, I think it's the son of a bitch madam Sirilla, the grocery box where grandma buys most of her ingredients. I shoot him a look that should make him cry and run home, but it doesn't. Screw this. These kids are all covered in confidence and lack of pulse.

"Still." I say a little before tap dancing on top of the marbles and scattering them further." Thank me later." I blink at the second boy and a frown forms on his face.

"I was winning!" he protested sand shrug.

Oops.

"I went."

When I cross the front door, mom throws herself in my arms already with tears in my eyes and I almost lose my balance. Part of me wants to pretend I don't know anything, but the other part, the one that always wins, chooses to wipe the tears of the woman who gave her life and apologize.

She gives me a confused look, though. She runs the back of her hand across her cheeks and shakes her head from side to side.

"What are you talking about, Davina? Why this apology?"

"Mommy…"

"Look what I found!" dad comes out screaming from inside, swing, arm raised high while holding up an envelope." Your daughter's mindless had the  courage to leave a letter!"shouts straight to his wife.

"Don't talk about her like that!" mom replies, earning a disapproving look from her, husband, who shakes his head with clear displeasure.

"The daughter is mine too, Christie." Its tone is quiet, but so bitter that it leaves a bad taste in the mouth. For a step to intervene, positioning myself between them without them noticing." Although I failed to create it." Dad speaks, and I'm the only one to hear the sadness in his words.

The last part was said guiltily, too.

"You always judged my girl."she declares in a voice choked with tears, resentment seeping into every word.

I push away the bad feeling that wants to dominate my chest and let out a sigh.

"Pryia is an adult, Christie. Her mistake was running her hand over her head when she needed a concealer.

Mum ignores him and grabs the paper from his hand before I have a chance to lighten the mood by discarding the envelope and unwrapping the letter, she whispers the words with an expression that goes from hope to pain very quickly.

"Mother." I try to approach, touching his shoulder cautiously. Her last tests showed nothing wrong with her health, but after years of fighting cancer, all I can do is feel the fear of losing her.

A reflection of the child Davina

"Baby."she touches my face." Your sister…" I don't allow it to end, I wrap my arms around his neck and I rub the palm of my hand on your backs.

"I am here." I talk.

Fluttering a string of curse words, Dad steps in and snatches the paper from her hands.

A long gap of time passes as he reads the words of Pryia, in fact, I get the feeling he's been reading and rereading and memorizing every line. When his eyes finally meet mine, there's nothing there.

No anger.

No heartache.

Anything.

And that just worries me more.

Then shovel father of Then evil and raspy laugh The Letter without saying a word.

"Edmund!"mom jumps out of my arms and lunges at him before I can contain it.

"No."he says, eyes locked on hers." As of today, we only have one daughter.

His statement is like drowning again, my breath is gone, and I can almost feel my lungs coming apart.

It turns out that my feet are still on the ground and no one will come to my rescue this time.

Then the worst happens, he finally sees me.

"Davina "I just scowled back." Don't let me down like your sister.

And so, with just one sentence, my father defeated all my dreams.

However, and l It is leaves before I can answer, leaving me alone with Mom. And his intense pain.

"Did someone start the third war?" Grandma appears beside me, sizing her up from head to toe." I bet it was those...

"Momeeee! M-My daughter left."

Out of the corner of her eye, Granny looks for help, but can't reason at the moment to explain the mess your eldest granddaughter made and how deeply she ruined my life.

"I am really sorry." I whisper before running as fast as possible, better run.

I run until I can't see the house where I grew up.

I run to, my feet hurt.

I run to leave the hill.

Via Rose St has always been the limit where we people without so many zeros in our bank accounts could pass. That was always a clear reminder with all the luxury stores and high-end buildings on the other side, but my sister and I used to break the rules and mingle growing up, we'd laugh and pretend we belonged to a rich family.

It never worked.

Our clothes were too plain, unbranded and almost always wrinkled.

Over the years I realized I couldn't pass for one of them and stopped going.

My sister never did, and I gave in to her petty actions, letting her carry on acting and pretending not to realize how far he was from his essence, from who he really was by an illusion.

Now she's gone, and I'll have to patch up all the gaps myself.

Like our parents' marriage.

I rub my hands on my thighs, massaging the muscles as I appreciate how far I am from home and the irony of running straight here. My lips are dry from overexertion, and I'm not even close to relieving the anger building up in my chest.

"How can she?"I shout, taking advantage of the little movement in the well-equipped square.

"And what did she do?" I jump back at the sound of the voice, accidentally bumping into its owner.

"Beloved father." I speak with my hand on my chest.

The guy arches an eyebrow.

"Are you religious?"question and snort.

"Religion is for the undecided, I have faith. Many." I speak, then realize I've just explained myself to a stranger and stop." Need to go."

"Will not you answer me?"

I stop my steps, then look over my shoulder and wait.

"What did she do?" he repeats, the interested tone bringing a strange comfort.

I appraise the guy from head to toe, slowly and appreciatively, until he clears his throat and blushes. His eyes remind me of a rainy day, gray and menacing, but the rest is like the ideal movie prince standard. Yuck.

"She left." I declare, and something changes in his expression.

Almost as if he was satisfied with the answer.

"I wish I had that choice." say, then turns around and walks away.

Surprise.

Surprise.

He enters the most luxurious building.

Cliche shit.

I walk to the nearest wooden bench and sit facing the horizon, when the sun disappears, I decide to go back home.

Bad choice. The weather is as bad as ever.

Mom still looks like she needs something strong to settle down, and Grandma looks ten years older. However, the only one who notices me is daddy, but he's no better than them, though try to demonstrate the opposite and fins pin who doesn't care,I can feel his broken soul in the way he quickly avoids my gaze for too long.

"Hey."I touch the shoulder of him with mine. " How is she?"

"Alive." is all he says before handing the glass of water and pill in my hand and walking out the same door I just came in. I don't think much about the drug's function before directing it at Mom and watching her drink it.

"My head hurts."she complains, not looking at the emptiness in front of you and then granny goes to the little suitcase we keep all the over-the-counter drugs in the pharmacy and takes out a box open.

"Give me that."grandma points to the half-full glass in Mom's hand, and I hand it to her.

"Isn't it amazing?" he asks when he sees two pills in his hand.

"These are weak." he mutters, swallowing the two round pills before I can protest and do something about it.

Almost ten minutes later, Mum still complains of a headache and repeats Pryia's name over and over while Grandma tells her to shut up.

I loved my sister, but I hated her right now. Hated how sad she made Mom.

Deep down, I knew that Pryia wasn't solely to blame for our family's unhappiness. It was his fault.

The ghost.

The boyfriend who didn't want to assume her and made her feel inferior. Anger burned through my veins along with the pounding of my heart, and I knew, somehow, that I needed revenge.