"Tommy absolutely hates me now and I don't know what to do about it," Jasmine sighed, leaning back in her seat to look at her computer screen better. She knew that she should be in class but she didn't care anymore. Jasmine wasn't one to skip class but between needing a break and her best friend in the acting world, Kyle Revere, was on break, she figured that one day wouldn't kill her record.
From his side of the screen, Kyle Revere let out his own sigh and leaned forward in his seat. Kyle had been on Jasmine's friend list ever since she had started working on Miss Blumer and Mr. Jack series. After all, he was the one who ended up playing Joshua Jack. Jasmine had always known him to be a good kid, one who stayed away from the usual Hollywood drama, though recently had admitted the behavior had only been because of Jasmine's influence. Jasmine would even dare to say that Kyle was her best Hollywood friend, placing him up high on the list with Mark and Monet. Still, he lived in the acting world that Jasmine had called Hollywood so it was no surprise that he managed to make it on the cover of a different magazine at least once a month. Plus, now that the new trailer was out, he was bound to get more attention, and Jasmine was expected to get swept up in it. Despite normally being able to avoid all the talk and drama for most of the year, whenever a new movie of hers came out, she fell victim to the press all the same as him.
"Okay, well, from what I'm hearing, it sounds like he's just frustrated. It can't be bad for that long. You could just be overthinking it? I mean, he is only eight. You can't expect him to react rationally," Kyle replied, attempting to voice reason into the situation. Jasmine groaned and threw her head back, almost smacking it against the wall.
"That's what everyone's been saying! Yeah, I know that he's eight. He doesn't understand the concept of family and stuff like that. I get that. But what he does understand right now is that Aunt M can't go to his game because she had to go to New York. Because of me. And sure, he can be upset and all that, but apparently, to him, I'm not his sister and I'm not that important. And all I try to do is be the best big sister I can be. That's what hurts." Jasmine let out another frustrated groan and balled her hands into fists, covering her eyes with them. "He won't even look at me right now. I can't even apologize, he's so upset."
"Jasmine, Merry, listen. You don't need to apologize. You haven't done anything wrong. You have a job to do and not only does it require for you to go to New York, but to bring a legal guardian with you. My mom's coming with me and my step-siblings just have to get used to it, just like your brother," Kyle replied, shrugging his shoulders as he spoke. "You don't have to apologize for that. But I know you. If you even had a choice, you would go by yourself just so Mrs. Bell could go to his game. That's just who you are. One day, he'll get it. One day, he'll understand that you only have his best interests at heart, okay? He's eight. He only knows what's in front of him. He'll get over it." Jasmine slowly removed her hands from her face and nodded her head. Kyle was right, which she figured was the reason she had called him in the first place. Even though she loved having conversations with Mark and Monet, sometimes it felt as though they would tip-toe around her. Kyle wouldn't do any of that. He could provide just the right insight when she needed it.
"Yeah, yeah. I guess you're right," Jasmine finally agreed, nodding her head. "He's only mad because Aunt M has to miss his game. I just happen to be in the way and he doesn't know what else to do." Kyle nodded his head and shifted, looking out the window of his trailer comfortably.
"Exactly. This'll blow over in a few days, I'm almost sure of it..." Kyle trailed off slightly, watching out the window. "They're really going at it out there, aren't they? Obviously, I'm in my trailer and I'm pretty sure there's a fight going on out there. I can't imagine what life would be without this." Jasmine giggled and flashed a smile, her upbeat mood returning.
"Well, if it gives you a better picture of what my life is like here, I'm supposed to be in English right now. And Kyra, the detective I told you about, she just texted me a few minutes ago to ask me if I wanted to be her partner for our project that'll be due next week," Jasmine said, almost proud of the fact that her life was as simple as that. Kyle whistled appreciatively.
"So you're basically normally over there, is that what you're telling me?" Kyle asked, turning back to face the camera again. Jasmine shrugged and nodded her head to confirm. "Man, that's something. I wish I could do that. I can't even go to school without most people wanting to be my friend because I'm Kyle Revere."
Jasmine giggled slightly before speaking up again. "You do have friends though, right? Outside of our little Hollywood world." Kyle was quick to nod his head in response.
"Oh, yeah. Of course, I do. I've got a few good, real friends. Nothing to worry about in that category. But, of course, I do live in a big city and just about everyone here knows I'm the Kyle Revere. It makes life here just a little bit harder." Jasmine nodded her head in understanding, a feeling that she could share with him.
"I guess I got lucky in the hometown department. I've just always lived here," Jasmine replied. "I mean, most people remember me from the one time that I got glass in my foot one Main Street." Kyle chuckled, as though the memory was something to make fun off. Jasmine pouted slightly before she got an idea and her face lit up. "Oh! You know what? You should come down and visit me when you're free. Visit small-town life for a change." Kyle shrugged his shoulders and picked up his phone, scrolling for something on it.
"I don't have free time until we're finished filming our newest movie together. You know, the one where I play the antagonist and you're a hero and all that," Kyle said, looking back up from his phone. Jasmine grabbed her own phone, opening it up to find her own schedule. As the app opened up, she spoke again, searching for her December calendar.
"I don't think I have anything going on after that- Yeah, I don't. I'm home free for Christmas! Works out well for me!" Jasmine smiled and looked up back at the camera again. "Seriously though, you should come and take a trip down to spend some time with me. It'd only be for a few days. I honestly don't think many people are going to think twice about you coming down if I'm honest."
"I don't see why we can't do that. It would be loads of fun to hang around you for a bit," Kyle smiled. Jasmine smiled and clapped her hands together excitedly.
"You can totally slip into school for a few days with me if you want. No one will get upset about that. And honestly, people will only be shocked until, like, lunchtime. Really, the people here are used to my antics at this point, they won't even bat an eye. It'll be a lot of fun!" Her normal pep returned to her voice and Kyle chuckled once he heard it.
"Alright, sounds like a plan then. I'll come down once our film is over. Now, I have a script to go over and ten minutes left in my break. And you have English, so you better get on it." Jasmine chuckled and rolled her eyes.
"Alright, I'll let you go then," Jasmine replied, slipping her phone back into her backpack pocket. "I'll talk to you later. Oh! And see you next Friday for the TV thing!" Kyle nodded his head in agreement, wishing her a farewell. "See you soon!" And with that, they ended the call. Jasmine closed her laptop and looked around the room slowly. Her mood was improved and now she had something to look forward to. Kyle might be a Hollywood boy to the rest of the world but deep down, Jasmine knew that he was her friend at heart and there was no changing that.
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"Jasmine! Jasmine, Jasmine, Jasmine!" Mark called, stopping next to Jasmine and waving a hand in front of her face. Jasmine groaned and batted his hand away playfully, only looking away from her screen to glare at him before her eyes quickly shot back. "Jasmine Ender! Pay attention to me!" Still, Jasmine didn't lookup. Mark groaned and stomped his feet, almost like he was throwing a fit, though it was so out of character for him to do that everyone knew it was an act. "Jasmine Marie Ender, you better pay attention to me or I'm spilling all your tea to the tabs!" That quickly got her attention and she looked back up, shooting another small glare in Mark's direction.
"Mark, can't I have, like, five minutes to finish my scene?" Jasmine whined, her nose scrunching and lip curling in mock annoyance. Mark just stuck his tongue out at her and sat down on the desk next to her, attempting to lean over her shoulder to see what she was working on. Instead of letting him look like she normally would have, Jasmine shut her computer quickly and giggled, leaning back on her hands. "Nope! Only people who don't annoy me get to see what I'm working on!" Mark sighed in faux defeat and elbowed her in the side.
"You meanie! I just wanted to let you know that I had invited someone new today. You know, before they showed up today," Mark replied. He didn't get the chance to say anything else since the door opened and Sasha walked in. She was followed by Isa and both seemed excited by the idea of another member joining the club.
"Did you really invite someone new?" Sasha asked, running over to Mark and Jasmine. Mark nodded his head and Sasha squealed excitedly. "Yay! I'm so excited! It's been so long since we've had a new member!" Jasmine chuckled and rolled her eyes, shaking her head as she jumped off the desktop.
"We literally invited Kyra, Cleopatra, and Monet just a few weeks ago. That's three new people for you to get to know and enjoy. And somehow, you're already bored of them. Geez, Sash! Y'all are so hard to please!" Jasmine giggled. Sasha curled her lip playfully, shooting Jasmine a look, before laughing and heading over to her normal spot at the table to wait for the other members of the club. Jasmine took her chance to turn and look over at Mark. "Anyways-" She drew out the word. "Mark, do I get to know who this new member is?"
"I'm seriously thinking about saying no. Since, you know, you didn't tell me about Monet," Mark smiled. Jasmine groaned and tossed her hair over her shoulder, stomping her foot in frustration, although hers was less of an act.
"But that's not fair, Mark! Monet's one of your best friends! I just wanted to surprise you! And you got your revenge on movie night! You can't double shot me!" Jasmine replied, turning her lip out in a pout. Mark only laughed, slipping his backpack off and letting it drop onto the floor.
"I can see you're remembering your backpack a whole lot more now," Cleopatra remarked as she pushed the classroom door open. Jasmine and Sasha waved at her from their respective places despite knowing they wouldn't receive one in return. "Now, I can hear your horrendous whining from down the hall. Do tell. What's got you all so excited?"
"Mark's just invited someone brand new! Isn't that super exciting?" Sasha asked her with a bright smile. Cleopatra glanced over at her but only shrugged her shoulders, setting her back down carefully against the wall and sitting across from Isa in a set of chairs.
"It's just someone new, though. It's not like we have the President coming down to meet us," Cleopatra replied with a bored tone. Isa shifted and glanced up from her computer to greet Cleopatra, only to make a face at the President comment and shake her head in what could pass as disgust.
"Why on heaven and earth would we want the President to come down here?" Isa asked, hands freezing on her keyboard. Cleopatra only shrugged her shoulders and reached out for Isa's computer. Isa handed it over and Jasmine realized suddenly that Cleopatra had actually made a friend.
"She doesn't get it!" Sasha said exasperated as she turned to face Jasmine and Mark again from the table. Jasmine chuckled and shrugged her shoulders.
"Keep in mind that Cleo's still pretty new to this whole club thing. I don't think she'll understand the importance of having a new member for a while," Came Jasmine's factual response. Then, she turned on her heels again to face Mark, who was still on the desk. Slamming her hand down on his kneecap with baby amounts of force, she spoke to him again. "Now spill the tea. I want to know who this new member is." Mark just chuckled and shook his head lightly.
"It's really just Sebastian Klark," Mark said, slamming his hand down on top of Jasmine's with the same amount of force. "You know him. He's the Freshman in my Science class that I told you about." Jasmine frowned and whined slightly at the hand, gently pulling it away.
"Yeah, Seb, you said his name was. Right? That was his nickname," Jasmine asked. Mark nodded his head in agreement. "Yeah, I remember who you're talking about." Jasmine shot him a smile and turned back to the door as it opened again. She waved to Kyra and Leo as they entered the room. They waved back and Jasmine turned back to face Mark again.
"Hey, Leo! Over here!" Sasha called, waving him over from where she sat. Kyra, however, just sat down in the corner of the room, the spot that used to be Isa's, and pulled out her book again.
"Poor Kyra. She's having a really difficult time fitting in right now," Mark whispered, leaning in closer to Jasmine so she wouldn't have any difficulty hearing him. Jasmine sighed and glanced over at the girl in question from out of the corner of her eye. It was partly to check on her, but mostly just to make sure that the girl's detective ears didn't pick their conversation up.
"I mean, isn't that why we created this place? That's why we invited her here," Jasmine said, looking back over at him and twisting a strand of her hair around her fingers. "That's why we all need this place. Kyra... she doesn't have any friends. I know that for a fact. She's always on her own and everyone seems to be avoiding her like she's got the plague or something. It's not fair to anyone, let alone her. I mean, I dunno where I would be if it wasn't for you or Mo or even Kyle for that matter." Jasmine then bit her lip and her gaze dropped down to the floor, shaking her head like she was admitting defeat. "Nah, that's a lie. I know exactly where I'd be. I've only got two places to go, after all. It'd either be the cheap thrills of a Hollywood life or..." She paused, taking a breath in before continuing. "Or six feet under with my mother." Her gaze returned to Mark's, though it still remained vulnerable. "I mean, we started this club so people wouldn't have to resort to the extremes, right?"
"You don't want anyone to hurt as you do, I know. I get that. But we can't make anyone be friends with anyone," Mark said, giving him a comforting smile despite the way that Jasmine's words hurt his soul. It wasn't the first time he had heard Jasmine say that and it certainly wouldn't be the last. Jasmine might have been the strongest, most independent person Mark had ever known, but it was at times like this that Mark was reminded why she needed a friend like him. Jasmine was human, just like everyone else.
"No, you're right. We can't. But we can be there for her until they warm up to her themselves. Kyra is a great girl. She's just got a solid shell." Jasmine shot Mark one of her signature smiles, only pausing and turning to wave at Monet as she walked into the club room. Monet waved back and shot Mark and Jasmine a careful smile before heading over to sit with Isa and Cleopatra. "Miss Knight seems to have hit it off with them..."
"Yeah, they're a pretty unlikely group if you ask me," Mark chuckled. "I wonder what brought them together." Jasmine giggled and shrugged her shoulders. A secret that they would probably never learn the answer to.
"Yeah. The only group that would be more unlikely would be Kyra and Cleopatra But we all know that it won't happen," Jasmine smiled and chuckled. Then, she turned back to Mark and dropped her hair from her fingers again. "You wanna know something, Mark?" The brunette tilted his head to the side, eyes giving away his curiosity. "I'm glad you're my best friend. Seriously. I wouldn't know what to do without you." Mark chuckled and rolled his eyes, gently kicking Jasmine in the leg. The actress whined and stepped back, away from his grasp. "I'm trying to be serious, Mark, and you're ruining it! Really, you're the best!"
"Yeah, yeah, I know I am," Mark laughed. But he reached over and pulled Jasmine back, hugging her tightly. "Now, I've got to go on a search for Anthony and make sure that Seb didn't get lost on his way over. You sure you can handle our soon while I'm gone?" Jasmine rolled her eyes, sticking her tongue out at him as she hopped down from the desk.
"Can I do my own stunts?" Jasmine asked with a smile. Mark shook his head and shoved his hands into his hoodie pocket. "Imma chill with Kyra while you're gone. But be back soon! We've still gotta talk about Homecoming week. It's next week and I know the clubs typically do something for it and we've literally done nothing." Mark nodded his head and the two of them started walking towards the door together.
"Definitely. Now, go make Kyra feel welcomed and loved," Mark replied. Jasmine smiled and shooed him out of the room with a laugh before turning on her heels to head over to Kyra. He hadn't forgotten Homecoming week. In all honesty, it was hard to forget it. He had already gotten his ticket. In fact, he had snagged two of them. He knew a person who wasn't planning on going and he figured now was as good as any to stop waiting around for fate and take a chance. Mark was prepared to ask Monet Ivory to the dance.
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"Kyra, did you get those details worked out?" At her grandfather's words, Kyra sighed and gestured over to the file on the desk across from her. She didn't look up, only leaning her head on her hand as she continued to work on the Math problem in front of her. From the corner of her eyes, she saw her grandfather pick up the file and lean back against his own desk. She knew what he was doing. He had a problem with mistakes and if even so much as one word was misspelled, Kyra knew that she would be in for it. That's why she had to turn in her English homework a day late.
Of course, in his perfectionist behavior, Elijah Kingsly didn't take kindly to that either.
"I'll take this with me back to the office then," Elijah replied, finally looking over at her and drawing Kyra's attention away from her homework. "What are you working on now?" Kyra knew he didn't really care. He never had before but he wouldn't take a shrug for an answer. So long as her work was done for the day, he didn't seem to care what she spent the rest of her time doing. Kyra never could understand her grandfather. He just didn't make sense.
"It's Math, as per usual," Kyra responded with a shrug. Elijah looked like he was about to say something, but Kyra had a feeling she knew what his next question would be. "And I've finished everything else I've needed to do, so don't worry about that. I've just got homework left." Elijah seemed to be satisfied with her answer and started towards the door. He only paused when Kyra spoke up again. "Grandfather... When are you going be to back?" Elijah only shrugged his shoulders in response and walked out of the room. Of course, he was allowed to respond like that and leave Kyra more confused than normal. Her grandfather was a strange man and Kyra groaned in frustration, feeling as though she should have this figured out by now. Elijah was never straight and she should have expected this by now. Still, as quickly as her anger came, it disappeared and she was quick to scold herself. Grandfather is a very busy man, you know that. He doesn't have the time to be around. He doesn't have time for petty questions and games.
Although Kyra couldn't remember the last time that he ever did.
Once Kyra heard the front door open and shut and she was convinced that Elijah really had left for work, Kyra gave up on her Math for the minute. She pushed her chair back and left the office, heading down to the kitchen. A cup of hot chocolate wouldn't do her any harm, especially now that her grandfather was gone. She rummaged through the cabinets, pulling out a mug and her current secret stash of hot chocolate packets from behind the pots. With hot water boiling on the stove, she poured her mix into her cup and headed outside to throw it away in the trash bin, knowing it would be out of view from her grandfather. Once she was back inside, her water was ready and she could finally have her drink. Heading back upstairs, her drink put her in a better mood and she was ready to reattempt her homework once more. Sipping on her drink, she settled back down at her desk and worked through the Math problems, this time with a different mood and that seemed to help. It only took her twenty minutes to finished it up and she slammed her book closed, shoving it back into her backpack with a satisfied nod of her head.
Kyra picked up her backpack and finished her hot chocolate, heading back downstairs to quickly wash her mug and spoon, replacing them so nothing looked out of place. Then, she made her way back upstairs, opening the door to her lavender themed bedroom. She glanced around, but the only indication that someone even lived there happened to be her growing pile of laundry in the corner. She sighed, realizing that she should probably deal with that but deciding to put it off until tomorrow. So long as it didn't spill over the top, Kyra was safe. For now, she was ready to just put on her pajamas and read her book in the comfort of her bed.
Kyra exchanged her gray sweater and skinny jeans for a pair of black leggings and a loose lavender tee shirt. Then, she did turn and made her way into her bathroom to finish getting ready for bed. Kyra wasn't one to have a major bedtime ritual, unlike some of the people she knew at this point, but there were always a few things that she had to do before she slept. She brushed her teeth, wincing at the bitter taste that the mint left in her mouth, before pulling her long, white hair out of its ponytail and letting it fall around her. A few strands stuck to the glove around her hands but she fixed it easily by a quick brush through in that section with her brush. Kyra froze after that, however, staring at herself in the mirror. She knew she looked so much like her mother now. Despite the white hair and skin, she could see her mother's face when she looked in the mirror. Kyra only had a few photos left of her parents and she didn't look at them much, but she did have them memorized at this point. She could describe the photo in the cabinet to her left perfectly without even having to look at this now.
Kyra had left it out on her window sill for the longest time until she was about ten years old and couldn't stand to look at them anymore. She didn't think she was being fair to herself, keeping such a painful reminder so close to her, so she threw the photo away. Well, it had been thrown away for a whole hour. Once that hour was up, Kyra fished it out of the bathroom trash can again, where it found its new home in the darkness of her cabinet.
It would be a lie to say that Kyra hadn't touched the photograph since then. The truth was that she didn't seem to have the ability to let it go. She always had one of these moments, a single point in time where the world around her seemed to freeze, and all she could think about was that awful day, the events repeating on a loop over and over again in her head. Kyra sighed softly and stared at herself in the mirror, setting a hand gently on the glass. She definitely looked like her mother but her nose was her father's. She knew the picture so well that it seemed to appear in her mind now, unable to let her go now. The picture wasn't a formal one but she clung tightly to their smiling faces and carefree eyes, a moment frozen forever in a time that Kyra couldn't go back to. The actual frame that she had originally kept the photo in was long gone, replaced more than enough times. Sometimes, Kyra got so mad at her parents that the picture ended up hurled at the wall in a bout of frustration and she relished the moment that she heard the glass shatter against the wall. And then guilt would well up inside of her and she'd buy a new frame to keep it in.
What I wouldn't do to control my emotions as Cleopatra does, Kyra thought bitterly. She glared at herself in the mirror before tearing her gaze away from the glass and picking up her brush. She brushed through her hair aggressively, trying to free it from the knots before another memory hit her and she dropped the brush in the sink. It suddenly didn't feel comfortable anymore. It felt more like another brush, one that she had grown up with. Her mother had a brush like that one, hadn't she? Kyra could remember the way her mother would brush through her hair as a way to relax and suddenly, Kyra grew disgusted with it, stepping back from the sink. Words she didn't want to remember filled her head and she shook her head, trying to forget. 'Qiān jīn, you're so patient.'
Kyra groaned and opened the cabinet, pulling out the photo she had hidden in the back. She shouldn't be encouraging this. She knew the risks of attempting to relive the past but she didn't seem to care anymore. Kyra studied the photo, running her fingers over the frame. Slowly, she allowed herself to brush her fingers over her parents' smiling faces. A big mistake because suddenly, her eyes were fluttering shut, the memory breaking free of its restraints and flooding her mind once more.
"You've got the most beautiful hair, Qiān jīn. Did you know that?" Kyra's mother said softly, kissing the top of Kyra's head gently. Her mother was always quiet. Kyra couldn't recall a moment where her mother had ever been loud. But at the moment, it was the farthest thing from her mind. She leaned back into her mother's embrace, tangling her fingers in her mother's black hair.
"You're hair is very pretty too, Mama. You know that?" Kyra giggled and smiled up at her. Abigail Kingsly smiled back and laid her head on top of Kyra's, running her fingers through her white hair. Kyra kept her fingers tangled in her mother's hair, unaware of the time that passed by nor the conversations that her parents were having above her. She was content and happy and nothing could take this from her. That is until the monitor flatlined. Kyra panicked and jumped into her father's arms, shivering but never crying. She didn't think she could cry, not now.
Kyra hadn't even cried when the doctor told them that Abigail Yenay Kingsly had died at six twenty-seven pm on Tuesday, February second. Kyra didn't break down when her father pulled her close to him and stroked her hair gently even though she wanted to. She just listened to the great Liam Kingsly break down and cry himself for first time in her life. She didn't cry even though she wanted to. She could feel the tears in her eyes but the sobs wouldn't come, manifesting in her chest and sinking into a pit there. Even on the car ride home, she couldn't seem to cry. Numbness and shock had taken over her mind, creating her world to be lagged and slow, void of understanding and meaning. She would have liked to cry, to get the emotions out, but she lay in her bed way past midnight, curled in her favorite blanket of her mother's and staring at the ceiling, running her own fingers through her hair.
Eventually, her clock ran past one am, a time she remembered perfectly for a reason she couldn't remember now, and she left her room, the blanket wrapped around her shoulders. She quietly made her way towards her parents' room, silently hoping that her father was awake so that she didn't have to be alone anymore. She knocked on the door but received no answer. In a child-like state of innocence, she pushed the door open, creaking on its hinges as it moved. The bright light in the bedroom blinded her for a second, Kyra's eyes were so used to being in the dark of the hallway, that she had to rub them before opening the door the rest of the way.
Kyra wasn't sure what happened next. Maybe she had screamed, or panicked, or even cried, but she wasn't sure what had happened between opening her parents' bedroom door and the paramedics and police filled the halls of her home that had been happy only twelve hours ago. She clung tightly to the kind paramedic man who held her close and wrapped Kyra in her own blanket like her father had done only a few hours ago. She put on a brave face as her grandfather knelt down in front of her and kindly asked her to tell him all she knew from the past hours. She just remembered that she didn't cry, even though she wanted to scream and cry and beg because even as a young child, she knew it wasn't fair.
No, she had remained strong during all of that. The only time Kyra did cry was when they laid Liam Kingsly down on a stretcher and went to lay the sacred white sheet over him. She burst into tears, the ones that had been building since six twenty-seven in the afternoon, and pushed through the adults with her small arms. Arms attempted to grab her but she dropped down at her father's side and hid her face in his chest, sobbing into his chest. No one dared touch her for a bit. They just allowed her to wrap her arms around him in what she knew would be the last time, wanting to feel him hug her back once more. They let her cry, trailing her fingers up the navy shirt he had never changed and over the new, permanent marks around his neck.
Elijah pulled her away eventually, scooping her up in his arms and wrapping the blanket around her shoulders despite her kicking and screaming. She called for her father and her mama but neither of them came for her. And so, she gave up fighting, collapsing against her grandfather's chest and sobbing into his shoulder as they took her father away from her forever.
Reality returned just as fast as it had disappeared and with the shattering of glass. Kyra blinked and sighed as she watched the frame crumble to the floor in a pile of broken shards and the pitiful picture she wished she could just throw away. It was the last time she could remember her grandfather had treated her like that. Every time after that, for any reason he didn't seem fit, Kyra got punished for being unprofessional. Anytime she acted in a way that displeased him, she suffered for it, spending most of her days in quiet pain, her hands stinging and burning for weeks at a time because of his harsh treatment that came with having emotions in this household. For being less than perfect. Growing up, it had always been a game for Kyra's classmates to guess why she wore gloves. The truth was, she had too. She figured she could live with the world seeing her mistakes, but each cut, burn, and scar was just another painful reminder that she desperately tried to forget.
The door to downstairs slammed shut and Kyra let out a loud, frustrated groan. She sliding down the wall and pulled her knees up to her chest, a few tears slipping down her cheeks. She could never get the glass out of the way. She could never hide that from him. It was too late. Elijah would know.
Kyra was about to endure another torturous punishment for reliving the awful day that her parents had forced their seven-year-old daughter to plan not one, but two funerals for the only people on the planet earth that actually, genuinely cared for her.