Mara peeks in her holographic origami lingerie, casting broken prisms across the ground.
Two long, pink-feathered clips crown her head like she's an intergalactic queen. I adore it. I adore her.
Because Mara talks louder than my rambling thoughts, always has a word of encouragement and believes that nothing comes twice, so you have to act now, even if your mascara's still drying.
So yeah, after five days in this wonderland of reinvention, I can say with my whole heart: it's Mara who cracked my shell.
She stops cold and gasps. "Oh my God. You're a siren, risen from the sea. Hair—let it down." She doesn't wait and comes over, unclips it, then zips me up.
I glance down into the deep V cleavage. "I think I'm going to pass out."
"Want me to unzip it a little?" she offers sweetly.
"That's not it." My lungs are rioting, sure, but lack of oxygen isn't my main problem. "It's Richard."
She gives me a confused look. "Okay?"
I sigh. "I thought this would be my big moment to reclaim myself, but I'm dragging his shadow like a leash."
"Why?"
"We had a huge fight before I came here. He says I've changed. That he didn't expect me to want to do this."
She makes a face. "Do what? Wear blue?"
"It's just... we come from such different worlds." I stare at her rose-quartz ring instead of her eyes because I feel embarrassed about my next words. "I told him maybe we could've gotten another ticket for him, but he laughed, said he's busy chasing estates, not coupons. Then right after, he said Ishould go."
Mara's entire energy turns into sisterly rage. "I'm sorry, he said that? You should tell him that money obviously can't buy manners."
"He didn't say it in those words," I lie. It was those exact words. "But maybe he's right? Maybe I did change."
"Youshouldchange. That's the whole point of life." Mara runs a brush through my hair, soothing me with the movement. "Nonna taught us that if you don't change, you start rotting from the inside."
I make an impressed face. "Nonna's a legend."
"She'd cut him down with a single look," Mara says, digging a finger into my rib like she's stabbing Richard by proxy.
I try to tell her that he isn't that bad, but she stops me with her hand and says, "No, babe. That bullshit would never fly in my family."
I think of Ben, how he never made me feel small when I wanted to be myself, and smile.
"I know. I wish you could adopt me," I try to joke, but it comes out far too real.
When she sees my sad eyes, she hugs me from behind, holding me close. "You've always been like a sister to me. You know that. Blood doesn't matter."
I nod, smiling. "True. You're like a sister to me."
"I do wish you were my sister, though," she adds, and there is something unspoken in it, something almost aching.
That makes me give her a wobbly little pout, pull her even closer and say, "Same."
Mara plants a quick kiss on my cheek. "Forget about him for now. He'll be there when you come back. This is your time." She grabs my arm and pulls me along before I can protest.
The second I step out, Paul, her fiancé, stops playing his guitar and blinks, probably praying I don't spill my Cs because he actually turns away.
Sweet, loyal Paul. Those two are adorable.
A bit too much PDA for my taste, but he speaks fluent Mara, and Mara in his arms stops posing—she becomes a kitten, and everyone loves kittens.
