When Ariella was six years old, her mom died trying to protect her. At least that's what Ariella's Dad told her because she can't remember.
Ariella blocked out most of that year of her life.
Her therapist told her that when something traumatic happens, her brain is protecting her from dealing with emotions or trauma that she couldn't handle at that age.
Whether that's a load of bullshit or not, she doesn't know. All Ariella knows is that she misses her. Ariella's mom meant everything to her; every minute of every day, Ariella wished she was here.
Because if she was here, Ariella knew they wouldn't be moving.
"No,"
Ariella opened her eyes as rain fell from the sky, spattering around her. She blinked through the raindrops on her lashes and let out a breath.
"All my friends are going to be there,"
"Should've thought of that before you got expelled."
A crash reached her ears, and she flinched.
"Lincoln!" A growl echoed.
"You're already making us move."
Ariella sat up and brushed wet wisps of her red hair out of her face. She looked out at the backyard from the porch she sat on and tried to ignore her brother fighting with Dad.
They always fight, and Ariella knew it was better to stay out of it. She wanted them to get along, and if Mom were here, Mom would know the right thing to say to stop them.
But she's not mom.
"You can say goodbye to your friends tomorrow before we leave," Dad said. "You need to pack."
"I'm not going," Lin argued. "I can stay here and work, or I'm sure one of my friends will let me stay with them."
"Not an option," Dad said. "We're all going, so either pack, or you won't have anything when we get to the house tomorrow."
