Chapter 23 #2
Mada exhales sharply, finally tearing her gaze from mine, but the tension doesn’t leave her body. It clings to her, a visible weight on her shoulders. Like something is crawling under her skin, like she’s desperate to lash out before she breaks apart.
“It’s not enough that you’re meddling in my life, now you’re also talking about me to our parents? Low blow, sister.”
Her voice is sharp, almost too sharp, like she needs to cut first before I have the chance to.
I frown. “I’m not meddling in your life, and I wasn’t talking about you with Mom and Dad. Why are you saying stuff like that?”
I lean back against the couch, crossing my arms, forcing myself to stay calm.
She laughs, hollow, bitter, empty. “You’re always the same. Always the same, Khalee. It’s getting old.”
My stomach tightens, but I don’t look away.
“No, Magdalena. You’re the one who doesn’t change.” I shake my head, exhaling slowly, watching her carefully now. “Because the last time I saw you, you were exactly like this. Reckless, angry, hurting yourself and pretending it’s all fine when clearly, it’s not!”
The second the words leave my mouth, her mask cracks just a little. Just enough for me to see something flicker behind her eyes, something dark.
She lets out another laugh, but this time it’s almost manic, as if she finds my words pathetic.
“And who the fuck are you to judge me?” she snaps.
“I’m your sister. And I care about you.” My words are honest and straightforward. But they make her snap completely.
Her face twists with something that shouldn’t be there, something cruel, something broken.
“No, Khalee. You’re not my sister. And you don’t care about me. You never did.”
The air in the room feels like it shifts.
“That’s why you left five years ago.” Her voice is rising now, sharp and accusing, fueled by whatever is in her system. “And that’s exactly why you’re back now, because you need something. And as soon as you have it? Fuck this family, fuck sisterhood, and fuck me, right?”
Her words land like a slap. But she doesn’t stop there.
Her knee keeps bouncing anxiously, her arms twitching, her pupils blown wide. She rubs at her skin like she’s trying to erase something invisible, and suddenly, the reality of what I’m seeing crashes down on me like a tidal wave.
She’s high. Too high.
And now, she’s unraveling.
I keep my voice steady. “You’re not being fair, Mada.” The words come out softer than I expect. “You don’t even realize how unfair you’re being.”
Because part of the reason I’m broken was to SAVE HER.
She scoffs, shaking her head, but there’s something in her expression, something slipping, like it’s crumbling.
“No? Are you really going to stand there and tell me that after five years, you actually give a shit about me?” Her voice cracks, just for a second, before she covers it with more venom.
“Fuck you, Khalee. I tried. I actually tried to welcome you back. I missed you. And the second you got here, you judged me. You judged James. You judged my friends. You made everything about you. Just like always.”
I freeze, but she keeps going.
“You were always that quiet little mouse, sneaking into my life, getting into my business, pretending you were so innocent when all you ever wanted was attention. And now you’re doing it again.”
There it is.
The truth beneath all the anger.
Jealousy. Possessive, bitter, ugly jealousy.
My stomach twists. “What the hell are you talking about, Magdalena?”
Her jaw clenches, her nostrils flare, and then, she snaps completely.
“DON’T play dumb, Khalee! You fucking love it. You walk in, and suddenly, everything is about you. Every fucking conversation is about you. Every guy I know wants you. Every single one.”
She leans in, voice dripping with poison.
“Call your sister.”; “Bring your sister.”; “Where’s your sister?”
She shoves herself away, letting out a sharp, bitter laugh. “That’s all I hear. Every fucking day. That’s all I EVER HEARD. So I’m just going to say this one more time. Leave ME and my friends ALONE.”
Her breathing is ragged now, her hands gripping her arms so tightly her nails dig into her skin.
The rage radiating off her is suffocating because she resents me.
Not for something I did, but for something I can’t control.
She doesn’t resent me for leaving. She resents me for being wanted when she wasn’t. She resents me because deep down, she thinks I’ve always been safe and desired while she was never given that chance, which is not true.
And suddenly, I don’t just see her as my toxic, high, self-destructive sister.
I see her as someone who’s drowning and, once again, wants to drag me down with her.
“They are not your friends,” I murmur, still in shock and fighting with the memories I keep hidden.
I had a deal with those motherfuckers.
I did what I did to protect her, and they were supposed to leave her alone.
“They are more to me than you ever were.”
But before I can answer her, my parents come back from the kitchen, and I use the rest of my strength to hide the hole that has opened up between me and her in the last few minutes.
The rest of the afternoon rushes by, especially after Mada leaves for her room.
When I decide to go home, I’m certain of three things:
It’s time to have a decent relationship with my parents.
My sister is addicted to drugs, and I’m pretty sure I know where she gets them.
As much as it pains me, I can only solve one problem at a time and, as selfish as it sounds, I’m going to have to leave Mada for another day, because right now I have a miracle to appreciate.