Page 16 of Carved in Ruin

Exasperation creeps into my tone. “No,” I spit back, “Rafael, my childhood best friend. The one that kissed my boo-boos and played hide-and-seek with me. That Rafael.”

She sighs, her face softening, then reaches over, cupping my cheeks in her hands, forcing me to meet her gaze. “Mila, that man isn’t your childhood best friend anymore.”

I shake my head. “We agreed to become friends again.”

“What?”

“Yeah,” I say. “We agreed to try again.”

Layla looks at me like I’ve completely lost it. “You know this makes no sense, right? One second, he despises us, blames Father for the fire—and the next, he wants to rekindle your friendship? What’s gotten into him?”

I hesitate, my voice dropping to a whisper as I admit my biggest wish. “Maybe…maybe he misses me as much as I miss him.”

A slight frown crosses her lips as she leans in, pressing a quick kiss to my cheek. She doesn’t even try to answer that.

“It’s his birthday, Layla.” I pull back, eyes pleading. “There’s so much I want to make up for. I need to sneak out. Will you help me? Please?”

“Fine, but don’t think for one second that this is a good idea.”

Tugging at her hair, she mumbles, “Alright, Mila. I didn’t want to say anything, but there’s a blind spot—a door at the back of the mansion. No cameras, minimal guards. But if you get caught and ruin this for me,” she growls, “I swear to God—”

“I’ll be extra careful, I promise,” I quickly cut in. “No one will see me.”

She studies me with narrowed eyes, still suspicious of this whole thing. “Fine, but you have to promise me one more thing—that you’ll stay safe.”

“I swear,” I say earnestly, squeezing her hand.

“Where are you going, anyway?” she asks.

I’m buzzing, unable to hide my excitement. “We planned to go to this really fancy dinner.”

“What if someone sees you?”

“Oh, they won’t!” I can barely contain myself. “He booked out the whole restaurant.”

“So… it’s a date.”

“No,” I insist. “Not a romantic one. Just… a platonic dinner.”

But I feel that tiny flicker in the back of my mind, the one I’ve been ignoring. Because maybe, just maybe, I wish itwasromantic.

I squeal, rushing to the closet, and hauling a huge gift bag almost as tall as I am. She shakes her head. “Oh Lord, what’s in that thing?”

I shrug, grinning sheepishly. “Gifts.”

“Uh-huh,” she mutters. “How many gifts?”

“Um…fourteen years’ worth of them?” I admit, my cheeks heating up as I shift the bag to my other hand. Yes, like the pathetic girl I am, I still bought him a present every year, evenwhen he wasn’t around. I just knew deep in my heart I will get to give them to him one day, and I was right.

She stares at me, opening and closing her mouth. It isn’t often that something shocks the words out of her. She looks away for a moment, her lips twitching as if she’s fighting a smile, then turns back, giving me a soft nudge. “You really are something, Mila. Let’s get you ready, then. We’ll make sure you look like you’re about to give the best birthday surprise of his life.”

I stand in front of the mirror after she’s done dolling me up. My dress is simple, pink, fitted, elegant without trying too hard. My makeup is simple too. I wrap my coat over my shoulders, long enough to keep the night’s chill off but loose enough so I don’t have to fight with it while carrying this massive gift bag. My fingers tighten around the bag’s handle and I catch Layla’s smirk in the mirror.

I give her a quick smile, leaning in to give her those air kisses, one on each side, feeling her light laughter against my cheek. “Thank you, Layla. For all of this.”

She waves me off. “Yeah, yeah. Go on—give him that bag of birthdays you’re hauling around.”

I grip the bag tighter. Heels in one hand, I creep down the stairs, trying not to make a single sound. The bag’s almost as big as I am, and I’m holding my breath, hoping it doesn’t topple me over right here in the stairwell.

---