Page 53 of The Masks We Break

I forgot about the fundraising gala. With everything that happened with Ricky, then Blaze, and tutoring William, along with my piles of other work, it completely slipped my mind. It’s an event for Solace Academy—an attempt to fund the science department for the next five years with pictures of shiny new equipment and more technology.

I chew on my lip, hoping that Amora has something I can borrow again.

“What is it you wanted to ask?” My father’s bushy brows lift, impatience dripping in his voice.

This time, I asked in advance if we were meeting for brunch because I had something to discuss. He’d wanted me to say it over the phone but after I told him I’d rather do it in person, heshiftedaround his schedule to see me.

But now, sitting in front of him, I’m starting to regret it. His gaze burrows into me, but when he can’t seem to read my mind, he tosses his napkin down.

You can’t read me because you don’t know how. I’m written in a language you never bothered to learn.

“Spit it out, girl. Unlike you, I have things to do. You better remember to add more classes ne—”

“What if I change my degree?” The words spill from my mouth, taking with them a weight I hadn’t realized was so heavy.

His head jolts back, his eyes flaring. I swallow back the bile teasing my throat. My nerves curl in my stomach, forcing me to realize what I’ve just done.

There was once a time I didn’t do stupid things.

The slap comes fast, catching me off guard. My hand flies to my cheek, the sting radiates across my face, making it pulse in painful waves. Realization sets as my father stands suddenly next to me, fuming, his fist clenched at his side. I drop my head immediately, only letting my eyes gaze up for seconds at a time.

“How dare you,” he spits, his pale face growing red. “Yourmadid everything right.Everything.Yet, in the end, she had to choose. You or her. I begged her. Begged her not to leave me. But she chose you over me anyway!Youkilled the only woman I have ever loved.Youtook her from me. Soyouneed to carry on her legacy.”

And that’s that.

He spins on his heels, leaving me standing in the middle of the dining room, to go who knows where. I try to blink, numb myself before the storm moves in, but it’s too late. It’s been too long since we’ve done this dance, and I wasn’t prepared. I wasn’t ready.

The pain crashes over me as it always does, a tidal wave filling me to the brink until I’m gasping for air. I clutch at my chest, taking labored breaths, but it’s not enough. Tears stream down my face, burning a path in their wake, and soon my vision is nothing more than blurred light. I reach for the table and miss, falling to my knees on the linoleum.

I was ababy. How can a baby kill someone? In my logical mind, I know it’s not possible, but my heart aches, pounding in my ribs, bruising the bone, my fathers words injecting my blood with poison. It spreads through me too fast, jumbling my head until I believe him.

I killed her.

But I didn’t mean to. I was just a baby… I... why can’t he see that? Why can’t he justloveme?

It’s not fair to make me feel as though I must try and fill her shoes to pay the penance. That I owe them this, despite my own dreams and ambitions. My future has been set for so long, I lost my way somewhere along the path, losing pieces of myself the further I traveled. No. Not anymore.

My eyes flash toward the window, but they only find the blinding sun. I force them shut, squeezing them so tight I see stars. It’s enough to make me think of being in my bed, curled under the covers and looking at the moon. It’s far, and not as bright, but it’s the perfect shade. It’s the color that matcheshim.

Breathe.

I imagine his hums.

Breathe.

I feel his hand stroking my hair, butterflies erupting in my chest.

Breathe.

You are responsible for your own happiness.

This time, the air expands my lungs. Another two deep intakes and my heart begins to steady.

I reach for the chair near the table, clutching on to help me rise to my feet, taking more calm breaths. When I’m finally able to secure my balance, I wrap my arms around my stomach.

Another few minutes pass and the wave settles, but it leaves behind small sediments that stick into my skin. They remind me that even if the overwhelming pain is gone, I willalwaysfeel it. Always remember it. But I won’t let it won’t define me anymore.

I grab my book bag off the back of my chair and turn for the door, but books on the bar top catch my eye. They’re my mother’s recipe books. My father must have had them out when making the Banh Cuon. Without another thought, I grab them, tucking them under my arm before leaving.

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