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I don’t want to be the horrible daughter who stands in the way of her mom’s happiness. Seriously, I don’t.
But when she dropped that bomb on me, I couldn’t keep my cool. “What the fuck do you mean you’re getting married, Mom?” I blurted out before I could even think to filter my words. My voice came out way louder than I intended, and her eyes snapped up, meeting mine with a look that clearly said she didn’t appreciate the tone. But, come on—she had just blindsided me with this whole getting-married news, and she expected me to what? Clap my hands and throw her a party? “No curse words, Camila,” she chided, almost calmly, as if we were talking about the weather and not her dropping an emotional grenade on me. She set down a plate on the dining table, patting it like this was all normal. “He’s a good guy, and I’m sure you’ll like him.” “‘Good guy’? That’s all you’re giving me here?” I scoffed, throwing my hands up in frustration. “Who is he, Mom? Where did he come from? Are you sure about this?” My voice was laced with desperation because this was starting to feel like a bizarre dream—no, scratch that, a nightmare. She sighed, clearly unimpressed by my dramatics, as she continued setting the table. “Yes, Camila, I’m sure. And his name is Greg. We’ve been dating for over a year.” A Year! A whole damn year? My jaw nearly hit the floor. “And you never thought to mention him once?” I demanded, crossing my arms tightly over my chest. “I thought we told each other everything!” “Camila, you’ve been busy with school and your friends,” she explained gently. “I wanted to be sure it was serious before introducing him.” Like that made it okay. I just stared at her, dumbfounded. My mom had been a single mother for as long as I could remember. I never met my dad, and honestly, it never really bothered me. Mom made sure I didn’t lack anything; she was my everything. I got used to it being just us, and somewhere along the line, I had settled into the idea that this was our forever dynamic—just the two of us against the world. And now, out of nowhere, she wanted to bring in some guy named Greg? Mom must’ve seen the look on my face because she reached out, patting my hand. “Sweetheart, you’ll love him. And he has a son, so you’ll finally have a sibling,” she said, her face lighting up like this was the best news in the world. “Isn’t that great?” Wonderful? My brain short-circuited. “Wait — so I’m supposed to just accept this guy as my new dad and his kid as my sibling? Mom, this isn’t one of your romance novels!” She actually laughed, which made me want to scream. “Camila, you’re overreacting. I’m not asking you to call him Dad. Just give him a chance. He makes me happy. Can’t you do that for me?” I wanted to argue, to tell her that this was way too much, way too fast, and that I wasn’t ready for this kind of change. But then I looked at her, really looked at her. She was glowing, actually glowing. I hadn’t seen her this happy in years. And I hated that I couldn’t just be happy for her too. “I don’t know, Mom,” I muttered. “It just feels… wrong. Like we’re supposed to be a team. What if he changes everything? What if it’s not the same anymore?” She smiled softly and pulled me into her side. “It’ll always be you and me, Camila. No one can change that. But maybe it’s time we let other people in, too.” I took a shaky breath, trying to make sense of it. “Does his son even know about all this?” I asked. Mom nodded. “Yes, he knows. He’s around your age, actually. His name is Ethan.” I raised an eyebrow. “Great. So now I’m supposed to get along with some random guy I’ve never met before?” Mom laughed softly, brushing a strand of hair behind my ear. “You’ll be fine, Camila.” “You don’t get to tell me that!” “Camila…” “You know I’m not good with new people!” “CAMILA!” Her voice echoed as I flinched, shook my head, and bolted upstairs. “Camila!” she called again, but I slammed my door shut and pressed my back against it, sliding down until I hit the floor. My whole body was trembling. I knew I was being selfish. I knew. But I just couldn’t shake the feeling that everything was about to change… and not in a good way.The days after that hallway slap stretched out in a strange way I couldn’t quite name. It also became difficult to hate Miles as much as I wanted to, and that pissed me off more than anything. Though, I appreciated the fact that he kept to his word because after that night he never pushed, never hovered, never tried to insert himself into my space or my grief like some well-meaning parasite. He stayed out of my way completely, and the longer he did it, the harder it became to keep feeding the fire I’d been stoking since the second Dad brought his luggage through the door. Exams ended too. And as I walked out of that building, the first place I went was the police station, because the second the last bell rang, Camila’s face was the only thing left in my head. What happened after that… Well, I think you can guess. I yelled, demanded updates and threatened to go to the news if they kept treating her file like it was already boxed up in some dusty basement. They gave me the s
“You can hate me as much as you want,” he went on quietly, the words vibrating through his chest where mine was pressed against it, “but please, don’t cause Father any trouble.”I scoffed while still trying to yank my wrist free even though his grip held steady. “Father? You’re already calling him that?”“As much as you hate it,” he answered, not letting go, not stepping back, his face still inches from mine, “I’m adopted. He’s my father. What else am I supposed to call him?”The words landed like slap, harder than the one I’d given him, because hearing it out loud made it even more fucking real.“You don’t get to call him that,” I hissed. “You don’t get to walk in here with your bags and tell me not to cause trouble when you’re the one who showed up and complicated everything.”His grip on my wrist stayed firm.“I don’t need you to like me,” he said. “I really don’t. But can you at least be reasonable? He is already going through a lot. He’s trying, Tessa. He’s been trying every sing
“Leave me alone!” I yelled back, the words cracking in the middle as another sob ripped out of me. I curled up on my bed, knees to my chest, staring at the ceiling where the fairy lights blurred through the tears. Dad’s voice came again right outside the door. “I know it’s a lot. I should’ve talked to you first. But Miles… he doesn’t have anywhere else, Tess. And after everything with your mom, with Jake leaving, with Camila… I thought maybe this could be good for us. For all of us.”“Don’t fucking dare make it seem like you did it for me!” I screamed back, the words ripping out of my throat. “You did it for you! You didn’t think of me for a fucking second before you signed that adoption letter. Nobody gives a fuck about how I truly feel so drop the bullcrap!”I rolled onto my side, hugging my knees tighter, the exhaustion from exams crashing into the fresh wave of anger and hurt until my whole body felt heavy. Even in that position I could still hear him shift on the other side of
The words hung there in the cold air. I blinked once, twice, my brain short-circuiting because no. No fucking way. “You what?” The question exploded out of me, echoing off the porch and making Miles flinch. I stepped forward, boots kicking up slush. “You adopted him? We’re barely holding this house together, Dad! Mom and Jake are gone, the divorce is still a fresh wound, I’m drowning in exams and still screaming at the cops about Camila every chance I get, and you decide now is the perfect time to bring home some random kid from your old group home? What the hell were you thinking?”Miles shifted again, looking like he wanted to bolt back to the truck, but Dad just stood there, hands raised like he could calm me down with that pathetic gesture. “Tess, listen. It wasn’t random. Miles… he’s been through hell. His situation at the home… it wasn’t working anymore. The director called me yesterday, said there was a spot opening up for permanent placement and he thought I’d be a good fit
After that day, Dad kept visiting the foster care like it had become some kind of secret lifeline he couldn’t quit, and each time he walked through the front door he returned a little brighter than the last, like the house itself was slowly waking up from the long, gray coma it had been in since Mom and Jake left. It was good seeing him like that—really fucking good—especially with the way my own life had turned into a nonstop blur of exam prep and half-finished notes and the constant, gnawing pull of everything I still refused to let go. Finals were breathing down my neck like a rabid dog, every morning starting with me hunched over my desk at 5 a.m. with coffee that tasted like shit and textbooks that might as well have been written in a foreign language for all the focus I could muster. The first few visits after that homemade pasta lunch were tentative, like he was testing the waters to see if the good mood would stick or if the empty house would drag him back under. He’d come
I hesitated for half a second before sliding over, perching on the edge because I still wasn’t sure if this was real or just some temporary high before the crash. “Not cookies,” he said, shaking his head. “Just… talking. Those kids have it rough, some of them way rougher than I did back then. But they’re tough. Resilient. Reminds me that things doesn’t stay broken forever. One of the boys asked me about my old car projects, and before I knew it I was in the garage showing him how to change oil on that junker out back. Felt good.”I nodded slowly, picking at a loose thread on the couch cushion because looking at him too long made my eyes sting in a way I hated. “Hmm. Sounds… nice, I guess. Better than staring at the wall or crying in the driveway, anyway.” The words slipped out before I could filter them, and I winced a little, but Dad just chuckled like he expected it. I couldn’t help the small grin that broke through again. “Just don’t go all nostalgic and decide to adopt a bunch
The days that followed blurred together in a way that felt unreal, like I was watching my own life through a pane of glass. Everything moved too fast and too slow at the same time. One moment I was lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, the next, people were talking about fabrics, rituals, dates
TESSA~I stormed into the police station, my sneakers squeaking on the linoleum floor that smelled like spilled old coffee. My heart was pounding so hard I could feel it in my throat, choking the fuck out of me. It had been months since Camila and her whole family vanished, and these assholes we
Ethan…And then, just as I thought all hope was gone, I heard it.A low, feral growl, deep and resonant. My ears picked it up through the chaos, but it was different.I froze.There was movement from a distance. The men surrounding Ethan paused for just a fraction of a second, sensing it too.And
It was crazy how fast everything happened. One moment we were fighting for our lives. The next… we were standing in the ruins of victory and loss. My pack won. But my father died. I kept turning that contradiction over in my head, again and again, like a wound I couldn’t stop picking. The thre







