Page 58 of The Masks We Wear

Parka.

Fleece.

Body Warmer.

When I finally reach the warm body of my aunt, a fire hits the back of my throat.

Her burnt honey eyes are the same as I remember, tucked behind small glasses that frame her heart-shaped face. Her beautiful olive skin is without one wrinkle, except the two little crow’s feet at the corners of those stunning eyes. Her perfect ruby lips stretch into a smile, and when I look back up, I see a trail of tears making a path through the light dusting of her blush.

We both pause, but then, as if not a second of time has passed between us, she grabs me, embracing me in a type of hug I’ve long forgotten. I melt into her, wrapping my arms around her back and squeezing until the muscles in my forearm quiver. The combination of everything that’s happened with Spencer and me, my shitty parents, and my lack of sleep overwhelm me, letting the walls I’ve built crumble on impact. The sobs rip through my body, and I grip her tighter, scared if I let go, she might disappear like everyone else.

Right now, I’m not Lily, nor the captain of the cheer squad, or even the Queen of Emerald Falls. I’m the five-year-old little girl, holding on to her aunt for dear life, so I don’t have to move to the opposite side of the map with people that don’t even love me.

“Shhh, mija. I’m here now.” My aunt’s hand strokes my hair, tucking a loose piece back into my bun.

I’m not sure how long we stand like this. Second, minutes, hours. But when I’m finally able to loosen my hold, my body and mind are spent. My shoulders fall as I back up, and I wrap my arms around my waist, partially embarrassed I’ve just slobber-sobbed on the woman.

She steps forward, closing the gap and placing two tender hands on my shoulders, anchoring me in place. A shiver reverberates down my spine, the intimate touch is something so unfamiliar to me now, my body doesn’t know how to respond.

Mina’s eyes soften, a small grin curling the edges of her lips. “Whatever is going on in that loca head of yours, stop it. I’m here now, and I am not going anywhere.”

I swallow around the knot in my throat, blinking back the wall of tears now clouding my vision, and attempt a nod.

“How about some tea?”

“Sounds great,” I croak, wiping my face raw with the back of my hand.

We move together, walking through the foyer to the open kitchen. She sets her jackets in a pile on the edge of the couch before strolling to the large back sliding door. Her eyes drift to the dark house, and she turns her face, calling over her shoulder. “That little boy still live back there?”

The knot I swallowed earlier plummets to my stomach, making me nauseous. I’d told her about Spencer when I first met him. “Yeah, but he’s not so little anymore.”

She laughs out her nose, turning to climb onto one of the bar stools. “I suppose he isn’t.”

The lightness in her tone suggests she thinks there was more to my comment, but going down that wormhole isn’t on the menu today. Today, I want to find out what happened. Where the hell she’s been and why I’ve been left alone.

“So, how was your flight?” I initiate the small talk, moving around the kitchen to make some tea.

“Mija, why are you nervous?” Her voice is soft and a little timid. It forces me to look over my shoulder at her while I fumble around with the kettle.

“I’m not.”Lie.

Well, not a complete lie. My increased heart rate and trembling knees also prove something I don’t want to admit—I’m scared. No, terrified, really. I have no idea what the hell is about to happen. If she’ll answer all the questions I have. If it will change anything. If it canhealanything.

My aunt folds her hands on the bar, and I catch a glimpse of her fresh white tip manicure. Still no ring. I have no idea how a gem like her hasn’t been whisked away by now. Even when I was young, I saw the way her soul illuminated the world around her, casting its light into every dark crevasse. And she had the personality of your favorite warm drink. One sip, and your whole body swells with happiness.

All this lost time.

An ache stretches across my chest, and the small talk I had planned evaporates.

We stay quiet as I prepare our drinks, and while the silence is welcome, it also shifts my stomach’s little contents.

Finally, I give her a glass and lean against the opposite side of the counter.

She stirs her tea methodically before tapping it against the lip, casting rhythmic clinks in the air. When her warm honey eyes lift to me, she grins sympathetically, sighing as she sits back. “I suppose you have a lot of questions.”

I nod, tracing my finger around the rim of my mug. It’s warm in my hands, and I mentally anchor myself to the sensation.

“Ask me, but know I won’t lie to you, mija. You’re old enough now to know the truth. But first, can I askyousomething?”

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