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Chapter 12: Nowhere Else to Go
The train clattered on forever, wheels screeching over iron, carrying her farther and farther from the place she once called home. Mara pressed her forehead against the window, cold glass against burning skin. The world outside blurred into smudges of green and gray, but she couldn't bring herself to really see it. She was too tired of seeing.
Her suitcase rested by her ankles—small, battered, filled with less than it should've been. She had left in a hurry, half of her things still hanging in her old room like a ghost that no one would claim. Not that her parents cared. They had been the ones to tell her to go, their voices hard and final.
"You can't stay here anymore."
The words had replayed over and over in her mind, every syllable sharp as broken glass. She didn't know if they hated her, or if they simply didn't care enough to keep her. What is the reason why no one...., she didn't want to think about it now. It sat in her chest like a stone, heavy and ugly, something she couldn't carry out loud.
She had tried, though. She really had. Mara had called relatives she barely knew an aunt in the city and an uncle two towns over. She had knocked on doors with her suitcase in hand, her voice cracking as she asked if she could stay, just for a while. But all of them had excuses: no room, no money, no patience for a girl like her. She was too much. Always too much.
For a while, she lay on the narrow bed of a cheap boardinghouse, staring at the ceiling, listening to the hum of the street outside. She thought maybe this was it. Maybe she had nowhere left to go.
But then her mind had wandered to Ari.
She still remembered Ari as a smaller shadow trailing after her, curls bouncing, green eyes too bright for her face. Ari had been sweet, clingy, sometimes a little strange, but always laughing. Always tugging Mara's sleeve, asking question after question until her head spun. Ari, who used to call her "big Mara" as though she were some towering hero.
So Mara had tried the house phone. She still remembered the numbers, fingers pressing them with shaky certainty. It rang and rang, the silence louder than any voice. She tried again, and again, until her chest hurt from listening.
Later, she found out the truth. Whispers in town, murmurs she caught on the wind: Ari's parents were gone. Dead.
Her heart had stopped. She had sat on her bed for a long time, staring at her suitcase, at her shoes on the floor, at nothing.
But then she thought of Ari again. Of Ari's wide eyes, of her little hands tugging at her, of the way the mansion always seemed too large for one family how much larger it must feel for one child to be alone.
If no one else would take Mara, maybe Ari would. Maybe they could take each other.
It wasn't hope, not really. It was desperation. The last door left to knock on.
So Mara packed what little she had, boarded the train without saying goodbye to anyone, and carried herself all the way to Ari's house.
By the time the taxi pulled up to the iron gates, her stomach was a knot. The mansion rose like a mountain, windows glinting, rooflines cutting against the sky. She hesitated at the gate, suitcase handle clutched tight, legs weak. What if Ari didn't remember her? What if she wasn't wanted here either?, she had lots of questions on what ifs.
But when the door opened, none of that mattered.
Ari's face lit up like the sun. She barreled into Mara's arms, giggling, curls bouncing, clinging tight. Mara's chest cracked open with relief. For the first time in weeks, someone was happy to see her.
Inside, the mansion was different. Colder. Dustier. Shadows lingered in the corners. But Ari's voice filled it up, chattering nonstop as she tugged Mara through the halls. "I'll show you everything! You'll love it here ,it's not lonely anymore, Mara! Not with Ace here!"
Mara frowned. "Ace?"
Ari only grinned and pulled harder.
They reached the sitting room and there by the window stood someone.
Mara stopped dead.
At first, her mind refused to make sense of him. He was tall, far too tall for a boy her age, his skin a strange gray that caught the light wrong. His clothes were in tatters, scorched and ragged. And worst of all were the two black horns curved up from his head, cruel and sharp, and his eyes glowed faintly red.
Her throat closed.
No. Not human. Not even close.
Ari's voice rang cheerful, oblivious. "That's Ace! He—"
Mara didn't let her finish. She yanked Ari behind her, planting herself like a wall. Her hands shook, but she raised them anyway, as if her body could shield her cousin from something so unnatural.
"What are you?" she demanded, her voice breaking. "What is this?"
The creature didn't answer. His glowing eyes only flicked between them, steady, patient, unreadable.
Mara's heart pounded. "You're not human," she whispered, her breath quick and shallow. "You're not...."
Ari tugged at her arm. "Mara, stop! He's good, hee....."
"Quiet!" Mara snapped, her fear spilling sharp. "Don't listen to it, Ari. Don't go near it."
The boy no, the thing shifted, taking a single slow step forward. Shadows stretched with him, long fingers crawling across the floor.
Mara's chest clenched. The room tilted. Heat roared in her ears, drowning everything else out.
And then the world went black.
Her knees gave way, her body crumpling unto the couch in a heap of fear and disbelief.
The last thing she felt before her mind gave out was Ari's small hand clutching hers, and the burning certainty that whatever that thing was, it wasn't human.