Prologue #2
“Nonsense Rafael, you’ve been driving for nearly a day. I’d be surprised if your legs even work anymore. Go rest, tomorrow we focus, and we begin to look for your brother and gut him like the pig he is.”
My father eyes softened, “Thank you, Larissa, I don’t know who I can count on anymore, I’m glad we can still count on you.”
“Tsk, it’s your family burning houses down, not mine.
You'd do well to remember that. I told my sister not to fall in love with a snake, but she couldn’t tell a dog from a cantil and now your cártel is at my door anyway just like I warned her would happen.
I love my family Rafa, but there aren’t many of us left, so that unfortunately means you too, now come inside.
” She kissed my father’s cheek and tapped his chest with her palm.
Before she could get to Carolina, Cézar had already hoisted my sister into his arms and shuffled his way into my aunt’s home, carrying her as if she weighed nothing.
I stepped into the large, two-story stucco, European-style house and marveled at the golden chandelier with thousands of shards of crystals hanging from it.
I inhaled the overwhelming scent of cleaner, it was fresh enough I would have bet that she had one of her cleaners come out here hours before our arrival.
My aunt had money, a lot of it, apparently whoever my grandfather was on my mother’s side left both of them a lot of money. Money, she never needed because my father had plenty of it to boot.
My mother never really talked about her inheritance because it meant talking about her father, and we didn’t do much of that either. All I knew about Jamila Gomes’ side of the family was that she lost her older brother, Diego, when I was just a baby.
Soon after, my abuelo died too, leaving her and my tía with the remainder of his fortune. I never met my grandfather on my dad’s side either. It was rare for any man to rise to power while his predecessors still had a beating heart.
Being without grandparents was just a side effect of growing up in this kind of life.
“Look how big you are Celia! Come here!” My aunt sang from the balcony.
I walked up to her, trailing my hands on the gold of the staircase railing as my feet tapped loudly on the pristine white marble floor.
Tía Larissa was a tall woman, taller than my mother - which likely meant she was taller than I’d ever grow up to be.
She had short black hair in the style of a bob that went down to her chin and her forehead was a little too shiny, but she was always smiling, and I was thankful for that today.
“Larissa, are you sure this is okay?” My mother asked as she came out of Carolina’s new room, turning the light off behind her.
Her long black hair was fashioned into a braid behind her back, and her coal-black eyes matched mine.
No, mine were somehow darker.
They were my father’s eyes.
“Jamila, my sister, this house belongs to the both of us, we’ve all been through enough now.
There are four of you and one of me. The guest house is plenty!
Make yourselves at home please. My chef Luís will have breakfast ready in the main dining room by eight-thirty,” she turned to look at me before she continued, “If your sister is still asleep, I’ll have them put some away for her so that she can eat when she wakes up.
Let me know when you are ready to go shopping, you’ll be starting school this week and you’ll need more clothes than what you’ve been wearing in the car all day. ”
“Tía Larissa?” it was a question, but I didn’t know what I was asking, I couldn’t help but wonder why she was being so good to us.
I mean, I knew she was family, but family was what got us here in the first place.
Family couldn’t be trusted right now.
I clutched the blanket in my hand and felt the roughness where the fabric had gotten charred before I was thrown through the second-story window.
“This is what family is really for, mija, I know it feels a little confusing right now. I promise you this, you have people that will always go to war for you,” Tía Larissa said, almost reading my mind as she knelt down to my level and placed a kiss on my head.
For a brief moment the crushing weight of everything lifted from my tiny shoulders as we walked down a busy mall street to shop for new clothes.
I thought about school the next day and what it would feel like to start all over.
I thought about my English getting better and learning to live like an American kid, like in the movies.
It was small things to cling to as the realization set in that I deviated from the path that had been set out for me since the moment I was born.
We spent hours trying on outfit after outfit, and my mamá gushed every single time Caro came out of the dressing room.
It was always followed by my tía swiping her card effortlessly without looking twice at the cost. My mamá looked happier around her sister, as if the pain of what we’d been through was already a distant memory to her.
I knew she had been missing her a lot, she talked about it daily, ever since she left México for California.
I understood the bond they had because it was the same for me and Caro.
Unlike my mamá and her sister though, Carolina and I had never been apart.
Even in our large villa in Guadalajara, we had our own separate bedrooms, but often chose to sleep together.
Caro was scared of the dark, and I… was scared of being alone.
There was a comfort to being close in vast spaces, and we learned early on to rely on each other. Where most little girls had a stuffed toy or a doll, they kept with them at all times; I had Carolina, the best little sister in the entire world.
When morning came, the doorbell rang, and excitement rushed through me as I made my way down the large spiral double staircase to head to school. I opened the door to find a short, pale woman with blonde hair and a blonde boy about a head taller than me standing there.
“Cecilia?” The woman asked.
“Um, yes?” I answered with uncertainty as I recognized the new name I was told to go by.
“I am Nina, your aunt’s driver. I’ll be taking you and your sister to school from now on.”
I turned back to my mamá, “I thought Cézar would be taking me?”
“He’ll be returning to work with your papá in México tomorrow,” she stated vaguely, as to avoid explaining what type of work in front of strangers.
“Oh,” I mumbled in disappointment, something like anger nipping away at my heels from the thought of being left behind.
“This is my son Ronan, he’ll be riding with you to school, I hope that’s okay,” she chirped almost like she could sense my sadness and was trying to make up for it.
“Hi,” the boy waved awkwardly.
He was tall and definitely a couple of years older. His hair was a sandy blonde that fell over his eyes, the forrest green peeking out through wavy strands.
My heart fluttered, pumping a few beats faster than needed.