SIX•RUIN

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Weeks had passed, and Lita managed to navigate through school. Mateo had been fortunate enough to avoid returning to the hospital, and as hopeful as Lita was about his recovery, she didn't want to jinx it.

Lita lay in her bed, her faux silk pillow feeling lumpy and leaving her restless. She turned around to face her younger brother.

"Mateo," she whispered.

Mateo groaned, rubbing his eyes. "Not again," he mumbled to himself, only to receive a pillow to the head.

"Ow, Lita!"

"Shush! Dad's sleeping, stupid. Anyways... Mom sent me a letter," Lita said, leaning into her hands and regretting throwing her pillow at Mateo.

Mateo sat up at Lita's words, seeming much more interested. "Really? What'd it say!? Did she mention me? Is she coming to visit?" he said excitedly.

Lita mentally scolded herself for bringing it up. "No... but she did invite me to her wedding," Lita said.

"Oh... What about me? Am I invited?"

Lita thought for a moment. As much as she despised her mother, she wasn't going to let her hurt Mateo, even in her absence. "Sorry, bub. She said you're too sick."

𝐓𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓•𝗣𝗔𝗨𝗟 𝗟𝗔𝗛𝗢𝗧𝗘Where stories live. Discover now