Page 27 of Girls Night
I take a deep breath and remind myself that she can’t help it. That something inside of her is programmed wrong, and that one day, she’ll fucking snap out of it.
Although I know that some things linger in someone’s soul for far too long to ever be completely shattered, I have hope for Tati.
“What’s wrong? You look like you just tasted something sour,” she remarks curiously.
I shake my head and shoot her a small smile. It’s nothing I want to talk about because she takes offense to it.
If only I hadn’t told her about how I felt the first time I killed someone—the feeling of fear, then the exhilaration that washes over you … Maybe she wouldn’t be this way.
Besides, I was nine, and it was a complete fucking accident.
* * *
“Look what I’ve got!”
Pedro lets out his breath in a loud sigh as he walks over. He’s never been impressed much with anything that I do; if anything, I think he just knows me as Tatiana’s annoying little sister.
“What now, Sofi?” he demands in a loud voice.
I bite my lower lip nervously.
Maybe I shouldn’t show him. Papa would be angry to know that I left the house with this and even more so that I took it without asking his permission first.
But the feeling of being scared leaves me almost as quickly as it came when I see how he’s looking at me. With a bored look on his face, like me even being here bothers him.
I’ll show him,I think as bravely as I can.
I lift the bottom of my shirt and pull out the small gun. It belonged to my new mother before she left and made Papa sad by not coming back.
“Where did you get that?” he asks, his voice taking on a touch of excitement.
“It belonged to Mama,” I reply with a shrug. When he reaches for it, I take a step back and swat his hand away.
Pedro is older than Tati and me both, but I know how much they like each other, so I do my best to treat him as I would anyone else in my new family.
“You can’t touch it,” I hiss at him.
“But you can? You probably don’t even know how to fucking use it,” he replies with a smirk on his face.
“I do too!” I shout stubbornly.
“Go ahead. Point it at that tree,” he uses his chin to point to the one a few feet away from us, “and let me see if you can even hit it.”
I give him an angry look.
He must forget that he can’t speak to me like I’m no one now. I’m a Cancio, and that means something to the people here.
Squaring my shoulders, I lift the small pistol and aim it at the tree. The tip of my tongue is clenched between my teeth as I raise my other hand and grip the gun as best as I can.
I’m going to look like a fool when I miss it.
I’ve never shot a gun before, and he knows it. He’s going to make fun of me and tell everyone that Ana Sofia is a chicken if I don’t do this.
Closing my eyes tightly, I let my finger find the trigger, and I squeeze it, jumping slightly at the sound.
“See?” he says with a laugh. “You completely missed.”
When I open my eyes again, I let out a heavy sigh and drop my hand to my side, finger still on the trigger.
