Alessia still went over in the end, sitting quietly in Cole’s living room. Theyout was almost identical to her own home, but the atmosphere was a world apart.
The Tates‘ house always felt cold, almost sterile, while here, snapshots of everyday life decorated every wall and shelf.
She watched as Jade ruffled Cole’s hair, murmuring a warm “Well done,” and she could hear the tter of Parrish busying himself in the kitchen, the rhythmic tap of a knife slicing fruit.
It was a scene that simply never happened at the Tate <i>house</i>. No matter how many times they moved, their home was always quiet and distant. The only time the silence was ever broken was when she and Max got <i>into </i><i>one </i>of their shouting
matches.
Most days, her parents didn’te home until well after midnight. Technically, they lived under the same roof, but it wasn’t unusual not to see them for weeks at a time. Max was always running off somewhere, though he’d sometimes bring her candy or a snack. That never made up for all the hours she spent alone in that big, empty house.
Maybe because she was always alone, the neighborhood kids banded together to pick on her. She never took it lying down; she’d bite or pull hair–whatever it took. It never <i>ended </i>well for either side.
Every time those kids lost a fight, they’d show up at her door with their parents in tow. The kids would hide behind their mothers and fathers, making faces at her while the adults demanded an exnation.
She never had to defend herself, though. Max didn’t care who was watching–he’d stride right up and p whoever started it, parents included. Sometimes, he’d even get into full–blown brawls with the other adults, always iming he was “teaching them some manners.”
Eventually, the two of them got more creative–little pranks, nothing major. Sometimes they’d shatter á neighbor’s window, sometimes toss a handful of bugs. at the kids who’d picked on her.
It didn’t take long before the other kids started to fear them. Their parents stoppeding by, warning their children to steer clear of the Tate siblings.
But honestly, who wanted to y with them anyway? If that counted as ying, Alessia and Max had plenty of games up their sleeves.
12:34
She was only five, but she’d already learned to act older than the rest. That’s why she always seemed so grown–up–because most of the time, the only person she could count on was herself.
Alessia tore her gaze away, dragging herself out of the memories. But all the family photos scattered around the room left her feeling strangely restless.
She had only one photo of herself: a stiff school ID from her first day of preschool.
Her parents had wedding portraits, snapshots from their youth, baby pictures of Max… but not a single photo of her. Not one.
She lowered her gaze, unwilling to dwell on the thought any longer, already regretting her decision toe here.
“Lessie, do you remember Mrs. June?” Jade came over, eyes sparkling. She was trying hard not to sound too excited, but it was obvious.
Alessia pressed her lips together and gave a tiny nod.
“Don’t scare her off,” Parrish said, appearing with a fruit tter. “I wasn’t sure what you liked, so I cut up a bit of everything. Pick whatever you want.”
The te was filled with colorful fruit, each piece skewered with a little fork. One of them was topped with a pink crown.
Alessia nodded, picked up a piece, and took a bite. Crisp, sweet, delicious.
“Lessie, you should say thank you to Mr. Parrish,” Cole said, sliding onto the couch beside her, as if they’d been friends forever.
“Why?” Alessia asked, genuinely puzzled.
Jade and Parrish exchanged nces at her question.
Cole, unfazed, straightened his back and exined in his most serious big–brother tone, clearly imitating someone he’d met at his previous school. “Because we have to be polite, right, Mom?” he said, turning to Jade with a hopeful, proud grin.