Page 6 of Violent Attraction

We spend hours out in the courtyard, and I don’t pay attention how long we were outside for until I notice how low the sun is in the sky.

Huh. My mom didn’t come to get me when she got home from the store.

“I’m going to find mom.” I say to the boys before abandoning the game and running inside.

I check the kitchen first but she’s not there.

I then head to the sewing room.

Maybe she started without me, not wanting to take me away from the game.

I walk into the sewing room but find it just as I left it earlier today, and still no sign of my mom.

Maybe she’s with Camila. I head to my sister’s room but it's empty. Then I remember that Camila was with Mrs. Reyes while me and mom were talking about the dresses.

Is she not back yet?

She left a good four hours ago, it doesn’t take that long to pick out fabric.

Deciding to look for her in different parts of the house, I head over to my dad’s office. Maybe she is in there talking to him or something.

I hear voices the closer and closer I get to my father’s office doors. That’s not out of the ordinary, he always has people around, but these voices sound sad and angry, like something is definitely wrong.

“No! You don’t get to come in here and tell me that my wife is fucking dead and not tell me who did it!”

A gasp leaves my mouth and I feel this pain inside of me that I can’t explain.

That was my father’s voice.

It was my father’s voice saying how his wife was dead.

His wife.

My mother.

She’s dead.

I must have walked into the office at some point, because there are eyes of about fifteen men staring at me.

The only eyes I want to see are the ones that matter the most.

“She’s dead?” I don’t know how I was able to get the words out because it feels like my throat is on fire and everything is going to burst.

My father just looks at me, not saying a word. He just stands there and looks at me from behind his desk. His face is red and his eyes are filled with anger, but he doesn't look sad.

“Is my mother dead?!” I ask more forcefully. Just because I’m twelve doesn't mean that I can’t put together what is going on.

Finally, after what feels like the longest moments of my life, my father nods. “Yes, Isabella. She’s dead.”

Something in me snaps. It’s like whatever line was holding me together just ripped apart and broke something inside of me.

I can’t move. I can’t even go running to my father so that he can console me about this. I’m just rooted in place, watching everything around me move.

That’s how I am when Leo comes in and my father tells him what happened to our mother. That’s how I am when Leo blames him for her death. That’s how I am when Leo has to go get Camila and tell her that our mother is not coming back. And that’s how I am for the days that come. Rooted in place, not wanting to leave the comfort of my own room.

She’s gone.

She’s dead.