You Only Live Once

CHAPTER 1

Mira hadn't been to the graveyard in a year.

She hadn't visited the grass covering her mother and brother once in all that time. Was she a horrible person? Probably. But her father hadn't stepped foot there either, and he was the adult. He had been a little too busy playing the role of a father to kids that weren't his, living with a woman Mira didn't even know existed twelve months ago.

The week after the funeral—while the smell of lilies was still heavy in the air—he had dropped the news. They were moving to England to stay with an "old friend." He conveniently forgot to mention she was already his girlfriend. Mira didn't fight him on it. There was nothing left for her in their old house but empty rooms. She figured a fresh start was exactly what she needed.

But what was a fresh start supposed to feel like? Exciting? Nerve-wracking? She just knew it had to be different.

It wasn't.

In her first year in England, Mira hadn't managed to keep a single friend for longer than two months. Her grades stayed high, though, which was the only thing her father really cared about. Silia, his girlfriend, kept suggesting therapy. She said it wasn't healthy for a sixteen-year-old girl to spend all day buried in books, only coming out to hang out with her toddler step-siblings.

To be honest, Mira didn't mind the isolation. It was peaceful. Books didn't ask anything of her, and they certainly didn't leave. She knew staying in her room wasn't "normal," but she wasn't going to give up the only comfort she had left.

The day was June 29th, 2022—her sixteenth birthday. Miranda had spent the entire day in her bedroom. Every few hours, the boys would wander in to see if she needed anything or just to keep her company. She had grown to love those two little humans, which was why she felt bad for them. They had to grow up with her father in the picture. He tried to be better for them, he really did, but no one can change their old habits at forty-four.

By 11:55 PM, five minutes before her birthday was officially over, he still wasn't home. Silia was still new to his disappearances; she still had hope. She had waited and waited, wanting them all to cut the cake together.

At 11:59, Silia, James, and Aaron finally walked into Miranda's bedroom. They were carrying a small cake and singing "Happy Birthday." The boys had huge smiles, jumping onto her bed with excitement. They were likely just thrilled to be awake past their bedtime and getting to eat sugar. Silia was smiling, too, but it didn't fool Mira. She wasn't even sad that her dad wasn't there—she never expected him to be—but she felt the weight of Silia's disappointment.

"Thank you, guys," Mira said, giving the boys a kiss on the forehead before standing up to hug Silia. "It really means a lot."

"Of course, sweetheart," Silia whispered. "We weren't going to let the day end without celebrating." It was a guilty smile, as if she were apologizing for a mistake that wasn't hers.

Before anyone could say another word, they heard the heavy thud of the front door closing. Silia gave Mira a knowing look and hurried the boys out of the room. Miranda sat in the silence, wondering if he would actually come upstairs to wish her a happy birthday, even if it was technically late. For the next half hour, the house was silent. She heard the boys' bedroom door shut, meaning they were finally asleep.

At 12:45 AM, there were three quick knocks. Her father walked in before she could even answer. He looked tired, and if she didn't know better, she would have said he looked guilty.

"Silia told me I just missed the cake," he said.

"We're still speaking English, I see," Mira replied, her eyes staying on her book.

"We live here now, Miranda. I'm doing this for your own good." She could feel his anger rising, and she didn't want to deal with it. Like an obedient daughter, she kept her mouth shut and went back to reading. After a moment, her father sighed. "Look, Mira, money is a little tight right now, so I'll let you make a decision. We either get those tickets to Harry Potter World for you and Silia, or we get your brothers those toys they want."

The tickets, Mira thought. But she knew that wasn't the "right" choice.

"Silia hates Harry Potter anyway," Mira said aloud. "Get them the toys."

"You make a wonderful big sister," he told her, sounding relieved.

"Sure." She turned her attention back to her book, though she couldn't focus on the words anymore.

Half an hour later, her door opened again. This time it was Silia, holding a book in her hands.

"I thought this would be perfect for you," she said, handing it over.

Mira looked at the cover. It was a printed fan-fiction story about Harry Potter's parents and their friends. She looked up at Silia and actually smiled. "How is it that you know me so well?"

"I do hate that world," Silia admitted with a laugh. "But you love it. And I know how to listen, Mira. You talk about everything you read, remember? I just picked up on a few things."

"Thank you, Silia," Mira said, giving her a genuine hug. She was truly thankful. No one else paid enough attention to her to know what she'd actually enjoy.

"Read it," Silia urged.

"Right now?"

"Yes, right now." Silia kissed her forehead and headed for the door. "Just don't get too lost in the story. We want you here with us in the morning."

"I'm not going anywhere," Mira promised.