Chapter 56

MILA:

Felix did not protest the entire time I packed up my belongings to leave.

Felix did not protest while I booked my plane ticket.

Felix did not protest when I slipped into a taxi in the dead of night, even though I saw him watching me from his bedroom window.

I wanted him to say something. I wanted him to chase after me, to follow me, to beg me to stay. But he did not. He simply said nothing. He just looked at me with haunted, hollow eyes.

There was nothing left for me to say. And so I left.

As soon as I got on the plane to America, I was filled with regret.

I didn’t want to leave Fresonia–I didn’t want to leave Felix. But I was done with the lies and the manipulation. Things had gone far enough, and I needed time and space to clear my head. The past few weeks had moved so quickly, maybe I just needed a breather to figure out what I really wanted.

As the wheels of the plane left the ground, I couldn’t help but look out the window, wishing with a very tiny part of myself to see Felix down there, chasing after me.

He was not, in fact, there. And I was not about to ask him to run after me. I had been hurt too many times.

I sighed, put in my headphones, and attempted to sleep.

The flight back to the United States was smooth. I slept fitfully the whole time, blaming the discomfort of the plane. Truthfully, I hadn’t slept well since leaving Felix’s bed, but that was an uncomfortable truth I did not want to sit with.

After I passed through customs and got my bag, I stood on the sidewalk outside the airport, contemplating. There was really no place for me to go in America. I had no sense of home here, no job, no friends.

The only place for me to go was the one place I had sworn I would never return to: my family’s house.

My adoptive parents lived just off the main street of our town. Their house was foreboding, although not particularly large or fancy. Everything about my hometown seemed smaller and less grand compared to my life in Fresonia.

As I climbed onto their front porch and lifted my hand to knock, I felt frozen in place.

What the hell was I thinking? I couldn’t go back here. My family would never let me stay. Even if they did, I would be miserable.

You’re already miserable without Felix, I thought. I shook my head, attempting to banish that traitorous thought from my brain.

I turned away from the front door. Screw this. I was staying in a hotel.

To my utter shock and surprise, the door opened behind me. I turned to see my adoptive mother, wearing loungewear, an apron, and a look of complete confusion, staring at me.

My mother had always been the nicest to me out of everyone in my family. It was, after all, her idea to adopt me in the first place. She had never compared me to Nadine, unlike my father, or made me feel less than, like Nadine. But she also never stood up for me, passively standing by as my father and sister bullied me relentlessly.

I supposed she was a complicated woman in the same way Felix was a complicated man.

“Mila?” she looked at me, her eyes widening.

I shifted my weight from foot to foot. “Uh, hi.”

“What are you doing here?”

She still hadn’t hugged me or greeted me properly, much less invited me in.

“I’m back from Fresonia. Things got rough. I needed to come… home.”

The word tasted foreign in my mouth.

A small smile made its way across my mother’s face. “I’m happy to have you back, Mila. I’ve missed your cooking.”

Coming from my family, that was one of the nicest compliments I could ever receive.

“Can I… stay here?” I finally managed. It felt idiotic, begging my mother for the chance to stay at my childhood home.

She nodded. “Of course you can, Mila.”

I made my way up the steps.

“Nadine took over your old room,” my mother continued. “She needed more storage space for her clothes, so your room is now her walk-in closet. You’ll have to stay in the attic if that’s alright with you.”

I bit back a snarky comment about Nadine’s typical selfish behavior and fought the urge to roll my eyes.

“The attic is fine,” I managed.

“Well, come on in,” my mother said, stepping aside so that I could make my way through the doorway. “Your father and sister are in the kitchen. I’m sure they will be so happy to see you.”

We both knew she was lying, but I headed to the kitchen anyway. Might as well get the most painful part of this homecoming over with.

My father and Nadine were sitting at the kitchen table eating breakfast when I walked in. Immediately, I saw Nadine’s eyes narrow in judgment when she saw me.

“Well, well, well,” Nadine drawled. “Look what the cat dragged in.”

“Mila!” My father at least had the decency to look surprised instead of disgusted. “What the hell are you doing here? I thought you were in England.”

“I was in Fresonia,” I managed. He shrugged.

“What, your grand plan to move to Europe and change your life backfired? I’m shocked.” Nadine didn’t even bother to hide her venom.

“I wanted to come back home,” I said through gritted teeth. “After everything that happened with Felix, I–”

I cut myself off. I had said too much, given my sister too much vulnerable information already to use against me. It was too late–Nadine clapped her hands together gleefully.

“Oh, did things not work out with your little boyfriend?” she crowed. “I’m not surprised. No one will ever love you, Mila. Not when there are so many better options.”

By that, she meant herself. But it was still a painful reminder that had it not been for that stupid curse, Felix wouldn’t have chosen me, either. Stinging tears sprung into my eyes, and I blinked them back before anyone could notice.

“He just didn’t turn out to be who I thought he was,” I responded. That much was true, at least.

Nadine smirked. “And you were a disappointment.”

There was no point in arguing with her–she always had one more snide remark, one more petty comment stored up her sleeve that would utterly destroy what was left of my self-esteem. I opted to say nothing, instead turning my attention towards my father, who was beaming at Nadine.

“I thought I might stay here for a little while,” I said, fighting the bile rising in my throat. “Just until I get back on my feet. If that’s okay with you, of course.”

He stared at me intently. “You know the rules, Mila. If you want to stay here, you will need to help out around the house.”

“I’m happy to cook and clean whatever,” I offered. “You know I love cooking.”

My father waved a dismissive hand. “Chores are not something to be enjoyed, Mila. You will spend your time cleaning Nadine’s room and running errands for your mother. The floors need scrubbing, as well.”

I bowed my head. Of course he would assign me menial tasks instead of letting me cook. Why let me do something I was good at and risk the chance of paying me a compliment?

“You’ll need to pay rent, as well,” my father continued. “I was thinking $600 a week.”

I would be bankrupt in a month. I pasted a smile on my face and excused myself to go upstairs.

Once in the privacy of the attic, I pulled out my phone. I had spent the past several days pondering the existence of dragons and their mystical Knights, desperate for answers. I knew that there was one person who could answer my questions, but he was no longer an option to talk to.

The internet had very little to offer me, but I did find an online link to an old book of Fresonian folklore. As I stared at the images of men in shining golden armor and large, scaly dragons, I felt a weird sinking feeling. Something stronger than deja vu–it was as if, deep in my soul, I knew I had seen those images before.