She presses a kiss to my temple. “How are you, darling?”
“I’m amazing,” I beam.
They exchange a look over my head, silently reading each other as they always do.
Mama pats my cheek gently. “Go and eat your breakfast.”
“How long are you staying?” I ask eagerly.
Her smile softens. “Two weeks.”
My grin widens. It’s been so long since I’ve had them around for this long. A year ago, I visited them in D.C., but I only stayed for a week. I don’t like that city one bit, it feels too stiff, too suffocating. I much prefer either our hilltop estate overlooking the ocean on the outskirts of San Diego or Pa’s countryside house, where time moves at its own lazy pace.
“Shall we leave, Dad?” Zoan asks.
Daddy nods. He strokes my hair gently. “See you in the evening.”
I nod.
I’m sitting cross-legged on the carpet while Mama sits in one of the armchairs in the morning lounge. She’s massaging my hair, and I’m excitedly sharing the outline of the story I started writing yesterday, it’s a story about a woman who falls for someone she absolutely shouldn’t. Of course, that woman is inspired by me. She will have tostand against her loving family if she wants to live with the man she loves.
“Then comes the twist,” I murmur, eyes fluttering closed under the hypnotic rotation of her fingers, “when she discovers the enemy she loves also harbors similar feelings for her.”
“How?”
Half-asleep, I mumble, “She sees his tent.”
Her fingers freeze. My eyes fly open in horror. What the hell did I just blurt out?
Her laughter erupts, spilling through the cozy room like music. “You’re writing R-rated content now!”
I chuckle nervously. “I think so.”
“Hmm… let’s see how your father reacts when he reads this book of yours.”
I whip my head up so fast my neck nearly sprains. “Daddy reads my books?”
She nods, still grinning. “We read all of your books.”
I stare, stunned. I was completely unaware of this very critical information. I always thought only Ma, Pa, and Wen read my books, because I forced them to.
“Who else reads my books?” I ask.
“Your aunts,” Mama replies.
I sigh. “No males?”
“Only your daddy and Zo.”
I snap upright, now sitting fully facing her. “Zoan also reads my books?” The shock rattles through me like an earthquake.
“Have you not seen all the hardcovers in the library?”
I shake my head, dazed.
If Zoan really does read my books, then I might have to change the content. Because what I wrote in that chapter about her finding out is exactly what happened yesterday. Or… should I leave it as it is? He should know what I know. But Daddy reading it? No—God, no.
I poke her knee like a child begging for mercy. “Don’t let Daddy read this book.”
