Page 1 of The Devil's Den

CHAPTERONE

AIDA AGE 8

I never met my mom.I wonder if she’s pretty. If I look like her. Daddy says she died a long time ago, right after I was born. He says it’s my fault she died. That I did it to her when I came out of her.

I hate myself for killing Mommy. I wish I could see her, even a picture. But we don’t have any. I want to have a mom like my cousins Chiara and Raquel do. They’re so lucky.

I only have my dad. He isn’t nice to me. I think he hates me for hurting Mommy. I don’t blame him.

I play with the doll Uncle Sal got me for my birthday. There’s no one here but me and Ms. Greco. She teaches me stuff because Daddy won’t let me go to a real school. He says it’s better if I stay home. I don’t know why. I just want to be like my cousins. They get to go to school.

I’m always here alone in our big house. He just goes and leaves me for most of the day. Ms. Greco sleeps over when he can’t be home at night. She tucks me in. She’s always nice to me.

She says I’m smart, that I read very well, but math is kinda hard. She buys me lots of books too. I like to read them when I’m not playing.

I want to see my cousins, have some friends, but Daddy won’t let me. He gets mad when I ask too many questions. I only see Chiara and Raquel for holidays or birthdays. All the other times, I stay in our house. At least I have a backyard. I can go on the swing or play in my sandbox.

“Aida, honey,” Ms. Greco calls from the kitchen. “I made some chocolate chip cookies. Would you like one?”

“Yummy!” I instantly jump to my feet, dropping the doll and running toward her. “Could I have two?” I rush into the kitchen, but she already has two on a plate, waiting for me.

I grin wide, grabbing one, and stuff it into my mouth. It’s all warm and gooey. “Thank you,” I mumble, crumbs falling out of my mouth.

“Welcome. You deserve it after all the hard work you did with your studies.” She takes a cookie, placing it on her own plate, looking sweetly at me as she eats.

I wish she was my mom. Was my real mom as nice as her? Did she have blonde hair like me or black hair like Ms. Greco? I’ll never know and it makes me so sad.

“What’s wrong, honey?” Ms. Greco asks, and I look up at her, not sure what I should say. She works for my dad. What if she tells him? What if he gets mad at me for thinking about Mom, then yells or hits me?

“Nothing. I’m just tired.” I start on the second cookie. “Will Daddy be mad that you made these?”

“No, don’t worry.” Her smile is pretty. It makes me happy. “He said it was fine when I asked yesterday.”

“Good. I don’t like it when he yells.”

She sighs. “Me neither, honey.”

“Will you stay tonight?”

She gets up, coming over to me, hugging around my shoulders from behind. “Not tonight.”

“Oh.” I can’t look at her. I’ll start crying. But she can tell I’m sad because she hugs me tighter.

“I’m sorry, Aida. I wish…” She takes a heavy breath.

I whirl my head up and it looks like she wants to cry. “You wish what?”

“I wish,” she whispers, bending to my ear, “that I could take you away from here. You deserve more. I’m sorry I don’t do enough.”

“Don’t cry.” I quickly turn and put my arms around her stomach and hug her with all my might. “You do help me. You’re nice to me. You teach me. You’re my friend.”

“Yeah, sweetheart, I am.”

I hold on to her for a few moments longer until we have to get up and clean the kitchen together. If the house isn’t spotless, my dad gets super mad at us.

“You can go play now, sweetie,” she says once we’re done. “Later, we can read some books together before watching a movie.”

“That will be so fun! See, you do help me,” I tell her with a big grin. But she still looks sad, even though she’s kind of smiling.

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