Page 134 of Milo

Milo whips his head toward me, a grin on his face. "Our children?"

Shit. I clear my throat. "It's a figure of speech."

"A very telling figure of speech.” Milo smirks as he stands up. "I think it is time for your present, tesoro. Come with me."

"What?" I flap my arms. "I thought we weren't doing gifts! Milo..." Great. Fuck sakes. I knew I should've gotten him something.

Ignoring my frazzled expression, he looks around the room, nodding at his underboss. "We will be back shortly."

Marchello smiles, pulling out his phone. "Lunch will be served soon, do not be long."

Without another word, Milo grabs my hand and drags me down the hallway. "Close your eyes, Kiara.” I frown, pursing my lips. "Please?"

I grumble, begrudgingly following his instructions. "Fine."

"Are you not a fan of surprises?" he laughs, guiding me down the hall.

"Not really."

"I think you will like this one.” He leads me through a creaking door and positions me in the center of the mystery room. "Do not peek."

"Where are we?" I open my right eye just a crack. "It's really dark in here."

Milo clicks his tongue. "You are peeking."

"No, I'm not," I lie. "I'm just very intuitive."

Milo snorts, letting go of my hand. "You can open your eyes in twenty seconds, yes?" I nod. "I will be right back."

"Wait! What? Where are you going?"

"Trust me." His voice is faint as he walks away from me. "Start counting."

I let out a sharp breath, crossing my arms as I count down from twenty out loud, a faint electrical buzz sounding from afar.

What the fuck is going on?

"Alright," Milo says, appearing by my side. "Open."

As soon as my eyelids flutter open, my heart stops, and I let out a loud gasp. Nana. "Oh my God." At the front of the dark room, dressed in her iconic baby blue pleated skirt and cloche hat, is my grandmother. She's pixelated, but she's there. Nana Anne. And she's smiling at me. She's looking at me. Holy shit. "Milo, what did you do?"

"Merry Christmas, sweetheart," Nana says, her comforting, angelic voice immediately forcing my eyes to well up with tears. I grip my chest, my knees weak as I'm flooded with emotions. She looks so real. So fucking real. Her voice. Her hair. Her mannerisms. It's her. It's Nana. Oh my God. "I miss you so much, Kiara, every day." She tilts her head, her soft green eyes piercing my soul as tears roll down my face. Milo laces his fingers through mine as I stare in awe at the hologram. "My wish this Christmas is for you to never stop dreaming. Do not limit yourself to the familiar, Kiara, instead embrace the unknown. All God's children were given wings. Use yours, sweetheart. Fly. Fly like a bluebird."

"She's said this to me before," I mumble under my breath, my heart beating in my chest, my grip tightening around Milo's hand. "This is from?—"

"Whenever you are feeling sad, Kiara, simply remember that—" Nana pauses, taking a deep breath as familiar instrumental music flows from the hidden speakers. How did he do this? How did he—Nana opens her mouth and starts singing Over the Rainbow.

"Oh my God. How did you do this? Milo—" I gasp for breath. "Oh my God."

Milo stays silent as my grandmother sings me a song from my favorite movie. When I was little, I wanted so badly to be Dorothy. I wanted to escape my life, the pain of losing my parents, the darkness of reality.

I wanted magic, adventure, color.

Nana claps her hands, grinning at me. "You're a bluebird, Kiara. Just spread your wings and don't be afraid to fly." She takes a small breath. "I love you sweetheart, Merry Christmas."

And she vanishes.

"Holy shit," I hum as soft lights turn on and I realize we're in the theater.

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