Chapter 2

creeeeak.

The door made a faint protest to me as I opened it, the noise reverberating in the small apartment.

There she sat.

Sitting at the dining table and gorging herself like she had no plans on stopping anytime soon.

“Lyra,” I called out, throwing my bag near the entrance. “Ease up. You shouldn’t rush while eating.”

Not a response.

She just kept swallowing her food like there was no tomorrow. With another sigh, I stepped inside. “Lyra.”

Nothing still.

“Lyra,” 

This time, she did lift her head, just enough to swallow her last bite and look at me.

“I’m starving,” she stated, as if trying to explain away her behavior.

She reached for the glass of water beside her, gulping it down while nodding her head as if that justified everything.

I crossed my arms and watched her carefully.

I knew that face. She had something to say.

And she always stretched it out just like this.

Welcome, Aubrey, she said abruptly, and the tone she used dripped with sarcasm. I glared at her, but then stepped closer to the table and glanced down at the plate in front of her.

"Hold on," Aren't those the toasts that I toasted especially for you this morning?

She didn't respond; she just kept eating.

Why did you just start eating it? I asked, wondering how on earth I could believe her. And don't tell me that you haven't eaten breakfast before leaving for school.

Lyra paused from chewing and tapped her chin as if trying to recall anything.

Just seeing this irritated me.

Hmm... she mused.

I didn't want to miss the school bus, she replied finally, nonchalantly shrugging her shoulders as if it were no big deal.

I gaped at her since, at the very moment, there was a strong urge in me to pinch her ear. You skipped breakfast?

Her expression became bashful. I took a deep breath, moving away so as not to carry out my intentions.

So how was your interview? she inquired as though she had just revealed that she did something completely immature.

I’m hired, I stated plainly.

“What? Is that it?” she responded with wide eyes. I nodded, not quite understanding why. It’s just some maid’s job, after all. They didn't asked me too many questions anyway.

Of course, saying those words sounded easier than what I felt because I was aware that for me it was much more than just some maid’s job; it was everything.

I entered the kitchen, abandoning her there in order to eat up her meal. There was an empty space in the pots hanging around the stove. Naturally, since Lyra ate absolutely everything.  

I shook my head slightly, taking new tomatoes to put on the countertop.

But if she wasn't going to eat, well, I had something for her to have when I finished preparing the meal. I began to slice, the motion rhythmic and stable.

“Lyra!” I shouted. Bring me my suitcase because I’m going to pack after I finish cooking.

Soon enough, her feet made their presence known as she stepped inside the kitchen. Why? she asked. I didn’t look at her. What are you doing? Are you leaving somewhere? "Yes," I answered plainly. I'm going to my employer's home tomorrow.

"What?"

I looked at her.

Tomorrow?

"Yes."

Her face changed so fast that it nearly pained me to watch it. You’re really leaving? I put the knife down and walked to the sink, running some water over my hands, giving me a moment to gather myself.

Yes, Lyra, I whispered to her. I must. I dried my hands slowly and then faced her completely. I must look after us.

She did not say anything back immediately. She just stood there staring at me.

All of a sudden, she did not seem to be the same obstinate and sarcastic teenager skipping breakfast. She seemed much younger than she really was – too young.

I approached her and gently patted her face.

I will call you, I whispered to her. Every day.

She did not say a word but just stared at me for a moment more before embracing me in a tight hug.

Lyra, I whispered weakly, struggling to get air into my lungs. "Release me!"

She did not let go.

Lyra! I chuckled lightly. "Tell me, what strength do you have?"

Finally, she let go, backing away a bit. Tears filled her eyes.

I'll miss you, she murmured.

My heart clenched.

I will miss you too.

C'mon, I told her, offering her a small smile. We should pack.

I grabbed her hand and guided her from the kitchen into the bedroom.

I opened the wardrobe, taking out one item after another.

Lyra did likewise.

The air around us was filled with the quiet sound of crinkling material.

Folding.

Sorting.

Tell me about the place where you will work, Lyra asked, looking at me while folding one of her shirts.

I shook my head gently. I don't know much. I was just interviewed at some agency, not at that very place.

I took a blouse, folding it neatly and putting it into the suitcase. But the instant my fingers touched the cloth, it all went still.

I held my breath.

That blouse was familiar.

Of course it was.

She had made it especially for me.

My seventeenth birthday present.

The sewing was not done perfectly; it was never the point.

At the time it meant everything.

Before she left. Before she picked somebody else.

Before she turned her back on us as though we did not exist.

Tightening my hold on the fabric,

I could feel an intense rage bubble up inside of me, burning hot.

I despised that memory. I despised how much it controlled me.

...Sis?

Lyra sounded far away.

As though her voice had to travel through several dimensions to reach me.

Aubrey?

Nothing.

Aubrey... Aub—

She nudged me softly.

And just like that, the spell broke.

I snapped out of it.

"Hmm?"

You must have been thinking of her, she whispered.

I managed a laugh.

No, sis, I said hastily. I was just thinking about other things.

It was not difficult to lie.

However, Lyra did not believe me.

She moved toward me, her eyes gentle but knowing.

“Sis,” she whispered again. I know you must be thinking of Mom.

No word came out of me. Because what would I say?

I saw the blouse, she murmured softly. The one that Mom made for you.

She took my hand into hers.