Aurelia grew up without much love from her mother, and she never thought her real dad would ever come into her life. But then, he did. Now, she wonders if it's too late for him to rescue her from the darkness her parents left her in, or if there's s...
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I'd seen a lot in my life ugly, violent, and cruel things, but nothing hit me in the gut like what I saw when she stood there, frozen, the cake in my hands feeling heavier by the second.
Her eyes had gone somewhere far away, somewhere I couldn't follow. I'd been joking earlier, trying to lighten the mood, but the look on her face when her shorts revealed that scar... I wanted to smash the cake into the floor and find the bastard who'd done it.
The others noticed too. Christian's jaw had gone stiff, his protective big-brother mode kicking in without him moving an inch. Fernando... God, he just stood there like a statue, but I saw his knuckles whitening around the edge of the table. Even Ramón—who usually kept his feelings locked up was staring at her with this unreadable look, half-pity, half something darker.
When Papá stepped forward and hugged her, I swear I saw her shrink at first, like she didn't know how to accept it. That hurt more than anything. She was supposed to know what it felt like to be safe in her family's arms. She was supposed to trust us.
And then she broke. Just crumbled into him like she'd been holding it together for years and finally let go. I looked away for a second, because I didn't want her to think I was staring, but I could still hear her crying into his shirt.
That's when I decided. No matter what it took, I'd find a way to make her laugh every day—even if it was just a little. Because she's my little sister, and I'll be damned if her whole life is defined by what he did to her.
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I've seen scars before. From fights, from accidents, from stupid mistakes we made growing up. But not like hers.
When Aurelia's shorts shifted and that word came into view, it was like the air in the room changed thick, heavy, impossible to breathe. The singing stuck in my throat. All I could think about was how deliberate it was. Someone had taken the time to carve those letters into her skin. Someone had made sure it would never fade.
I didn't let my face change. Couldn't. She didn't need to see rage right now. But I felt it. Every muscle in me tightened, my jaw locked so hard it hurt. I didn't even realize I was holding my breath until Papá moved toward her.
