Aunt returns with the soup, her eyes wet as if she’s been crying. It’s like having an arrow shoot straight to my heart.
“Aunt —”
“It’s your favourite.” She cuts me off, her voice shaking at the end. “I might not be a good parent, but I can at least cook what you like.”
“It’s okay, Aunt. I understand what trauma feels like.” I stare at my lap before facing her again. “I shouldn’t have blamed it all on you. Mum was sick. Even if you were there, I don’t think much would have changed.”
Her mouth hangs open. “Elsa…”
“I’m sorry.”
“No. I’m sorry, hon.” She leans over and wraps me in a motherly hug. It’s warm and smells like cotton candy and summer. “I’m sorry I wasn’t around from the beginning. I’m so sorry.”
Me, too.
What would it feel like if I were born to a normal mother?
I guess I’ll never know. Whether I admit it or not, my mother was a monster.
I’m the daughter of that monster.
Now, I just have to decide whether to fight or embrace it.
I have to decide if I’m the type of person who locks children up to torture them like Ma or the type who sets them free like Dad.
Death or life.
r /> Darkness or hope.
As I wrap my arms around Aunt, I know exactly who I want to be.
14
Elsa
For the following week, Aiden doesn’t leave me alone.
He’s there during lunch, dropping off my special food. I don’t eat any of it, opting to have lunch boxes, but he keeps bringing it anyway.
He’s also there during practice, passing me water and his sports drink.
I stopped counting the number of times he wanted to talk to me and I refused.
He offers to drive me home after school. I refuse to and choose to ride with Knox instead.
His jaw clenches and his left eye twitches whenever I do that. He clearly doesn’t like it, and I expect him to drag me by force more than once.
He doesn’t.
Every time we cross paths in the hall, he watches me with a disarming intensity. He confiscates my air and tucks it somewhere beyond reach. I often stiffen, expecting him to drag me into a corner, announcing the game is over, and teach me whom I belong to in his sadistic dominating ways.
None of that happened.
It’s weird.
No. It’s disarming.
His nice, grovelling side is starting to freak me out.