To Be Your Curse

Chapter 11: My Loss

Cassiel

My parents' relationship wasn't the same after that day. They argued over the smallest things, and the topic of my mom's infidelity always came up and I was tired.

"Maren?" I called out, leaning closer to the door, hoping to hear something from inside. It was day ten of coming over to her place since the news of Mom's infidelity broke. Anna clung to my hand while I knocked again, my fist growing sore from the constant pounding.

"Are you sure we aren't inconveniencing them?" Anna whispered, giving my hand a small squeeze. I glanced down at her, considering her comment.

"We come here in the morning and leave at night... When Maren did that, it was kind of a pain." She hesitated before finishing.

"Shh. Don't say that." I frowned, hushing her. "You'll blow our chances if someone hears you."

Anna gasped dramatically, covering her mouth with her hand before rolling her eyes. She was trying to act like her usual bratty self, but I could see through the effort. Her slight weight loss, the dark circles under her eyes-she was crying herself to sleep every night. I couldn't let her stay in that house. Not until Mom and Dad figured something out.

Finally, the sound of a lock turning made me shift my focus. The door swung open, revealing Maren, wearing an apron. Flour clung to her hair, butter smudged her hands, and what looked like powdered sugar dusted her mouth. "Welcome home, my babies!" she grinned, her wide smile probably washing away Anna's doubts. She seemed genuinely happy to have us.

"Sorry I took so long to answer. Mom made breakfast for you guys, but Daren ate it when she left for work, so I thought I'd make something to make up for it. Hehe." She snickered, opening the door wider for us to come in.

Anna practically beamed, instantly running off toward the kitchen. "I want an apron too!" she chirped, letting go of my hand and rushing after Maren.

I sighed, already feeling a sense of dread. "How'd flour end up in the living room?" I muttered under my breath as I followed them inside, surveying the chaos.

The kitchen was a disaster. Flour everywhere. Dough spilled on the floor. And the faint, unmistakable smell of burnt cookies. I shook my head, already stressed. "We're in so much trouble," I mumbled, more to myself than anyone else, as Maren and Anna busied themselves roleplaying as bakers, serving their 'customers.' Their dish of the day? Those burnt rock-hard cookies sitting on the counter.

Deciding to leave them to their chaos, I headed back to the living room. Grabbing the cleaning supplies, I got to work, wiping down surfaces, sweeping up flour, and cleaning up the butter-smeared door handles.

By the time I returned to the kitchen, hoping to tackle that mess, they were done. It seemed they'd already eaten the cookies-and tried to feed some to Daren.

"We saved extra for you!" Anna exclaimed as soon as she saw me, holding a plate piled high with the charred remains of what used to be cookies.

"Consider it a reward for your hard work, janitor," Maren teased, standing behind Anna, a mischievous grin on her face.

"Are these even edible?" I asked, concern lacing my voice.

Both girls frowned, Maren grabbing a cookie and marching toward me.

"Say ahh," she insisted, pushing the cookie toward my lips.

"No thanks. I already had breakfast," I dodged, keeping my mouth closed, but she pressed on.

"It's really good. Give it a try!" Anna chimed in, her excitement palpable. She grabbed another cookie and held it up to my face, urging me to open my mouth.