Page 53 of Neverland

But I didn’t do any of it, and he did it all.

After the police wrestled my father into the back of the squad car and the ambulance left with my mother, I ran. Romeo called out to me from behind, but I was already ahead and much faster than him. I ran to the safest place I knew, the Neverland treehouse, and collapsed onto the bed of cushions. Painful, gut-wrenching sobs erupted from my core. I trembled uncontrollably like my body was possessed and screamed into the cushions until my throat was raw. I cursed and swore vengeance on God for standing back and allowing my father to destroy what was good. He allowed evil to win, and I hated him as much as I hated the man who conceived me.

Below the treehouse, concerned voices filtered through the floorboards, Mrs. Sanchez wanting an explanation for my hysterical behavior, and then arguing with Romeo to remain on the ground while she climbed the ladder. She claimed a spot next to me and pulled my dead-weight body into her arms the same way a mother would comfort a small child. Mrs. Sanchez held tight, allowing me to bury my face into her shoulder and sob. We rocked back and forth, her Spanish whispers eventually lulling me into numbness. Even when I’d quieted, she didn’t let go, gently kissing the top of my head while stroking my hair.

“Mama,” Romeo’s voice sounded from the ladder. “I want to be with Lucy.”

“Come in, miho,” she said before whispering to me. “Mi amor, remember who are. And remember we love you very much.” She squeezed me tight and I returned the gesture before she swapped positions with her son. “I’ll bring dinner up to you later tonight.”

Romeo laid down next me, his arm around my shoulder, my head on his chest. We remained silent for quite some time, both unsure what to say, both attempting to digest what we’d seen. Romeo’s thumb worked rhythmic circles on my back, his presence alone calming my aching heart.

“I don’t know how much I can take,” I finally said through fractured sounds. “What will happen to me now?”

“My parents won’t let anything happen to you, Lucy. I can promise you that.” His words gave me some reassurance but that wasn’t why my heart hurt.

My mother had been a beautiful vibrant woman once, her tattered and age-stained photo album held many smiles, many candid images of her laughing with those she loved and who loved her. Then she met my father and fell for his charisma and promise of a fulfilling life. Then he dragged her from their happy existence to his own personal hell. A hell he refused to let his wife escape from. Then he took that life away.

“Why did he do it, Romeo? Why did he have to kill her?”

“He had his demons, Lucy. You and your mom were just collateral damage.” I hugged him tighter, too scared to let go, tears saturating his shirt. “It’s fucked up. Everything about it is fucked up.” Hearing the pain in his own voice only caused me to sob harder. “You deserve so much more in life than what you’ve received. They aren’t ready, that’s all I can think of as to why life has been so cruel to you.”

“Who isn’t ready?”

Romeo kissed my forehead. “The world. This world just isn’t ready for you, Lucy.”

~~~

With pins pursed tightly between her lips, Mrs. Sanchez ran the last bit of hem through the sewing machine. Pulling the layers of fabric free, she shook the dress out and held it against my shoulders.

“Bonita,” I think she mumbled before removing the pins and stabbing them into the small cushion. “You truly are a beautiful young lady, Lucy. I’m so happy for you to be wearing a dress I wore when I first met Mr. Sanchez at my quinceañera.”

Mrs. Snachez knew I didn’t have a dress to wear to the school dance, my wardrobe consisting entirely of thrift shop casual clothes. She’d taken my hand after dinner and led me to her bedroom where she held the sea blue dress she’d already laid out on the bed. It was too long, and keen to have me wear it and attend the dance with her son, Mrs. Sanchez got straight to work on taking up the hem and removing some frills. The end result was just as beautiful as the original.

“It’s beyond generous of you, Mrs. Sanchez.”

She stroked my cheek before re-hanging the dress. “You are familia, bonita, and always will be.” She turned wearing a coy smile. “Plus, my son loves you like no other.”

I bit my lip to hide my own smile. I knew he did and I felt the same about him.

It had been a week since the murder. We’d buried my mother in a no-frills ceremony because there were no funds to give her the farewell she deserved. It was only me and the Sanchezes who attended, Mrs. Sanchez and Romeo holding each hand for support. We walked to the government-assigned plot at the local cemetery and along the way collected flowers growing on the sidewalk. Mr. Sanchez led a prayer and out of courtesy, I closed my eyes but instead of praying, I let Him know my true thoughts. Perhaps that’s why He felt the need to deliver yet another blow to my already falling apart world.

A knock sounded from the front door and we both paused to hear Mr. Sanchez talking. Moments later, he joined us in the bedroom, his tanned face now white. He swallowed hard before speaking in Spanish to his wife. Her face drained in color to match his, her eyes looking nervously between us.

“Carina, stay here,” she finally said to me before following her husband out.

Clutching the door frame, I listened to the voices and tried to make out the conversation. I understood the manner and tone more than the topic itself. Mrs. Sanchez was upset, raising her voice in defiance. She also sounded pained and angry. On the opposite side were two very official sounding people—a man and a woman. They remained calm yet assertive.

Mrs. Sanchez started to cry, her Spanish curses flowing with ease. I inched closer, wanting to wrap my arms around her and reassure everything would be all right just like she did with me when Mom died.

“Lucy!” Romeo rounded the corner crashing into me. He held both my shoulders, an urgency in his eyes that told me everything was not okay. “You have to go. Sneak out the back door and I’ll meet you up in Neverland.”

“What’s happening?” my voice was shaky with the fear it possessed.

“Just go, Lucy!”

The voices from the front grew close and before I could move, multiple bodies came barreling down the hall. The man and woman I’d heard were dressed in ill-fitting suits and were being led by a police officer.

“Just give us time,” Mrs. Sanchez pleaded, her face stained with tears. “We are caring for her. Just give us time to make it legal.

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