My eyes fluttered open, a smile tugging at my lips as the morning sun poured into my room. The warmth of home settled over me, and my smile deepened when I glanced around, reassured that I wasn't dreaming—I was really home. I lay in bed for a little longer before deciding to get up and fill my empty stomach.
"Mum, I'm hungry... Mum!" Michael's groaning greeted me as I stepped into the kitchen.
I chuckled, watching him trail after Mum, whining dramatically while she moved around.
Eventually, she had enough and snapped, "You brat, go make your own—" She stopped when she saw me, her annoyed expression instantly melting into delight. "My darling!" She walked toward me with her arms outstretched. "Did you sleep well? I decided not to wake you since you must've been exhausted from the journey."
"It wasn't just her in the car. I traveled too—"
"Shut your mouth, you brat," Mum gritted her teeth, throwing a death glare at Michael. Then she turned back to me with a warm smile. "Come, darling, I made your favorite."
"What about Dad?" I asked, noticing his absence.
"He didn't come home last night. Seems there's a lot to do at work." She placed two plates of food on the table and motioned for Michael to grab the rest. "You look so skinny, darling. Here, eat as much as you can. I made this especially for you."
I smiled at Mum, watching as she piled almost everything onto my plate. I couldn't deny how much I'd missed her cooking. University food could only do so much—nothing compared to a home-cooked meal. Mum hadn't changed at all; she was still the same, always worrying whether we ate too much or too little.
Placing an extra slice of meat on my plate, she asked, "I'm going grocery shopping later this afternoon. Do you want to come along?" The smile on her lips made it clear she wouldn't take no for an answer.
"Sure, Mum," I chuckled at her expression.
"Ahh, right, Mum—could you get me some underwear while you—" Michael abruptly swallowed his words along with a mouthful of food when Mum shot him a glare. "Your cooking is always the best, Mum!" He quickly gave her a thumbs-up.
Mum ignored his antics and turned back to me. "I'll go get ready then. Eat as much as you want, darling. Take your time."
"Yes, Mum," I replied as she stood up.
I watched her disappear behind the hallway before turning my attention back to my food.
"Don't forget my underwear, Mira," Michael muttered.
....
I used my free hand to block out the glare of the setting sun as I waited for Mum, who had been lured into yet another store by a vendor. We had spent far more time shopping than planned, thanks to Mum's inability to resist a good sales pitch. Every time a vendor sweet-talked their goods, she got convinced all over again.
I rolled my eyes at the word groceries—which had only been Mum's excuse for dragging me out. Not once had we actually stopped to buy any, yet somehow, we'd managed to spend plenty of money on everything else.
Straightening up, I hurried toward Mum, who had finally emerged from whatever shop had trapped her this time. The eager smile on her lips told me she was more than ready to keep going. Before another vendor could prolong our stay, I quickly steered her back to the car, determined to save her from the money-sucking vendors circling like hawks.
"Honey, there are so many things you'll love in that shop over there," she said, pointing excitedly.
"Mum," I groaned, exasperated. "You said that two hours ago. Do you really think I'll let you go back out?"
"But honey—"
"Mum, I'll come with you another time, okay?"
"But—"
"Mum. Another time." I groaned louder, refusing to lose this battle.
She sighed in defeat, clearly realizing I had won this round.
"Now drive, Mum," I said with a grin at her exaggeratedly sad expression. "Dad called an hour ago—he said we should meet him at home."
"Okay, honey," she finally relented, pulling away from the den of money-sucking vendors.
The drive home was a lively thirty minutes, filled with Mum's endless stories about everything I'd missed while I was away. By the time we pulled up in front of the house, the last traces of sunlight were fading. With its dim glow to guide us, we hauled everything we'd bought—both willingly and unwillingly—inside.
"You're finally here," Michael said as he came down the stairs, a backpack slung over his shoulder.
I raised a brow at his outfit. "Going somewhere?"
"We all are. I called like a dozen times." His unusually serious expression made me pause.
I rolled my eyes. "I thought you were just disturbing me about your underwear—which we got, by the way, thanks to your multiple texts."
Michael ignored my remark. "I packed some clothes for you, Mira." He turned to Mum. "Dad's getting yours. Let's go wait in the car, Mira."
I frowned as he grabbed my arm and pulled me toward the door. "Wait, what's happening? Why are we packing clothes?"
"Dad will explain later."
A sigh escaped my lips at the sudden turn of events. "At least let me put all these things away first."
"No need," he said quickly. "We'll probably need them."
I rolled my eyes again as Michael held the car door open, waiting for me to get in. Instead, I crossed my arms. "Michael, tell me what's going on."
He ran a hand through his hair and let out a sharp breath, like he was trying to steady himself. "Dad got in trouble, Mira. And if we don't leave now, we're all done for."
My brows furrowed. It wasn't a full answer, but it was better than knowing nothing.
"Now, will you get in?" He motioned toward our black Siena.
I sighed, deciding not to make things harder for him. Dad was probably already dealing with Mum. Sliding into my seat, I watched as Michael tossed his backpack and some other stuff into the row behind us.
"Are you sure you packed what I'll need?"
"Yes, don't worry about that," he replied. "I even packed some food and snacks, but they won't last long." His gaze shifted to the bags Mum and I had bought earlier. "Did you at least get something to eat?"
I pressed my lips together, eyeing his concerned expression. "We did, but Mum has them."
"I just hope she doesn't drop them," he muttered.
A small smile broke through my worry as I watched him. "Relax, Michael. I'm sure she won't if Dad explains properly." I patted his back. "Did Dad tell you where we're going?"
Michael leaned back against his seat, exhaling like he'd just run a mile. "All he said was that we're leaving town. We'll probably stay at a hotel for a while before moving again."
Before I could respond, the door beside us abruptly swung open, revealing Dad. He didn't acknowledge us—just shoved everything he was holding into the backseat. Behind him, Mum stood with a distant look, as if lost in thought.
"Mum did you—" Michael exhaled in relief. "Thank goodness. Here, give them to me."
Mum handed them over wordlessly before climbing into the front passenger seat. Dad slipped into the driver's seat, slamming the door shut. He started the engine in one swift motion, reversing before the garage door had fully opened.
I turned to the window, watching as our house faded into the distance. Dad's speed didn't leave me much time to take it in. Soon, it disappeared entirely, replaced by unfamiliar buildings that meant nothing to me.
...What the hell are we running from?