Chasing Innocence | ✓

51 | sincere talks

I have never seen anything more awkward than Maia's attempt at speaking with Léana. It's as though her discontent for Braxton seeps out into her voice, even as she asks her polite questions.

Sofía sits awkwardly by her mother's side on our couch. She's staring numbly at a spot on the wall in front of her, twirling a strand of her hair around her finger.

When Sof had walked in, I'd barely suppressed my gasp. I knew I didn't look much better, but it was clear that the weeks had worn on her. Her eyes look sunken; dark circles surrounding her sockets. Her clothes seem to hang off her from the few kilos she'd clearly lost.

I instantly felt bad that I hadn't reached out to her. I'd been so consumed in my own guilt and pain that I'd selfishly forgotten to stop and think about how this must have affected her.

"It was lovely to meet you both," Maia says quietly.

Neither of them reply. Léana seems to be off in a trance, almost as though she's going through withdrawals. Sof hasn't even looked at me, so I can't tell what she's thinking.

"Night, Ree," Maia whispers, squeezing my shoulder on her way out.

"Night," I say quietly.

Things were still a little tense since our argument, but I really was tired of holding in my anger. I didn't want to fight with my best friend.

"So," I offer them a small smile. "Um, I've set some blankets just on the armchair, Léana. The couch is really comfortable. I'd know, seeing as I've fallen asleep on it enough."

Crickets may as well be playing in the background. My own uneasiness about Brax's unknown whereabouts begin to seep in, but I push them away for another time.

"Sof," I say gently. "I hope you're okay with staying in my room tonight?"

Her eyes filter to mine as she nods slowly. She kisses her mother's forehead, helping her lay down as she grabs the blankets to cover her.

I have to look away, feeling the tears gathering in the corners of my eyes. I have never seen a mother so broken. I can only imagine the pain of losing a child.

"I think I'll go to bed now, if that's alright," Sof says to me, speaking for the first time.

Her voice has changed too. A maturity seems to have hardened her. I can't even remember what her smile looked like before. I miss it instantly.

"Of course," I whisper, reaching out to stroke her hair. She flinches and I drop my touch, stepping back.

I tuck my hands under my armpits as I show her the way to my room. "You can have my bed. I've got a sleeping bag that—"

"I'm not kicking you out of your bed, Rhea," she sighs, moving around the room. She touches the plant near my window. She picks up the framed pictures of my friends and me. Her vacant eyes seem to take everything in.

"It's fine—"

"We can share your bed," she whispers, almost pleading.

I wonder suddenly if anyone has comforted her the way she clearly needs it. Her family weren't exactly open when it came to love and feelings. Had anyone even hugged her?

"Of course," I nod, pulling back the duvet.

She climbs in slowly, her bony arms collapsing against her chest as she clutches them tightly. I pull the duvet up to her chin, like I'm tucking her in.

She stares at the ceiling as I shut my door, turning off the light. I shuffle back over to my bed in the dark, pulling back a corner of the blanket. "Night, Sof," I whisper.