I always have this house to myself. I am practically one with it—walls upon walls, barricaded inside with dozens of guards.
 
 “I promise to make it up to you.” She tightens her hug, smooching me like she did when I was little. A smile sneaks up at the corners of my mouth, but it fades when I hear her sniffle. “You’re all grown up.”
 
 She pulls back to wipe the tear running down her cheek.
 
 “Are you okay?” I ask again, searching between her glossy eyes.
 
 “Oh, yes.” She flips her hand to brush it off. “I’m fine. Just a little sad that you’re not little anymore.”
 
 I bite into the second cupcake, filling my mouth with it and leaving icing on my lips and nose as I say, “You know I’ll always be your little girl.”
 
 “I know.” She cups my cheek and wipes my nose before tasting the icing with a lopsided grin. “I have a present for you. It’s supposed to arrive tomorrow.”
 
 “Does it have a pulse?” I smirk before a laugh slips out.
 
 “As a matter of fact, it does.”
 
 “Is it a dog?” I pry for more information, but Grandma quickly turns around, clicking her heels against the floor as she walks away. And she calls me dramatic. I must have inherited that from her.
 
 “So, what was the present?” Jason asks.
 
 I grin. “My husband.”
 
 “Hey, Winona,” Grandma’s bodyguard says, as he lowers himself onto the bench. The waters of the fountain provide a peaceful soundtrack behind us.
 
 “Hey, Koy.” I force a smile to avoid seeming rude, even though I feel hollow inside. Koy has always been friendly, with his kind, murky eyes. Streaks of silver thread through his dark hair, ending in a bun atop his head. And that genuine smile never looks fake. It’s either that or his disinterest shows. He can’t fake it.
 
 “Want to tell me what’s wrong?”
 
 I sigh. “I don’t have anything real.” I only have a dark mind that gnaws at my heart. I have endless tears and lonely days filled with sadness. “It’s not that I feel abandoned. It’s that I have no one to talk to. Not even a psychologist, because we can’t reveal anything about our lives or anything that might raise suspicion and connect Grandma to shady stuff. So we play pretend. And I can’t talk to her because she doesn’t always understand.”
 
 There’s a vacancy inside me that longs for something—something I haven’t found yet. It twists my insides, knowing that it exists out there while I’m stuck here.
 
 “You know I’ve spent years beside your grandma. She is a hell of a lady, and I mean that in the literal sense, but you can learn a lot from her and prepare for the real world.”
 
 “But I can’t leave the house. How can I prepare if I don’t get to experience it?”
 
 “You’re eighteen. You make your own decisions from this point forward. She arranged something that will allow you to leave the house more often.”
 
 “Really? That’s the present?”
 
 “Yes. She can’t keep you in here forever. You’re going to college. You’re finally independent.”
 
 “I feel so behind everyone else. They probably have lots of friends they hang out with and… boyfriends. How would I recognize love when I see it?”
 
 “You’d know. Trust me. Words aren’t enough to describe it, but you feel it with every fiber of your being.”
 
 “How could I make friends when I was stuck here and everyone else had already developed their social skills?”
 
 He chuckles softly. “I have a feeling you’ll be just fine going to college, trust yourself. You always made the most out of every situation. You weren’t afraid even when you should’ve just been a little shaken up, but you shook the fear right back. So just be unapologetically you.”
 
 I like that... be unapologetically myself.
 
 I move my hand to my thigh, and a black witch moth lands on it at that moment—large wings, dark brown, mottled, with hints of iridescent purple and pink.
 
 Hello, beautiful.
 
 “Yeah, you’re right.” I glance at the wet asphalt and then back at the moth. “You love my grandma,” I say, feeling him nod beside me.