And she stops. And turns.
I’m shivering head to toe.
“Angel??”
“Avianna…” I sob on a hoarse gasp, and I run to her.
My… sister.
My fucking sister isalive, and standing right in front of me.
“Dios mio… what the fuck?!” She cries, collapsing into me.
“Avianna! Is it really you??” I squeeze onto her for dear life. “Por favortell me I’m not dreaming.”
Tears are pouring down my cheeks like a waterfall, buried in her sandy-colored hair, which was always a shade lighter than mine.
And I don’t know how the hell it’s possible after nearlytwenty years… but she smells the same.
My God… I’m crumbling.
“It’s me,” my sister shudders. “It’sme,Angelito. I’m here.”
“I th-thought you were…” I’m so woozy, Iwillpass out if I’m not careful.
“I’m sorry…” She’s sniveling, hugging me so hard, we’re melting back together.
The way we’resupposedto be.Together.
Me and my twin sister, together again. Almost twenty years later, but we made it.
“I… f-found you,” I quake. “I never stopped believing.”
She nods, weeping hysterically.
It takes both of us several minutes to even disconnect from one another. But when we do, we both remember that we’re not alone.
And when Avia sees Ivory, her glassy eyes go round, the green in them shining confusion, and hatred.
Yea. That makes sense.
After all, she still thinks he’s responsible for what she’s been through all these years, which, in a way, he is. Though not fully.
But my sister doesn’t know the details. All she sees is her twin brother with the man who killed our parents and kidnapped her. So naturally, the assumption would be that he’s had me all this time, like some evil, raging creeper.
In a flash, Avianna, reaches into the tiny shorts she’s wearing and pulls out a small knife. Whipping the blade out, she lunges at Ivory, pressing it up to his neck.
“Avia, wait!” I yelp.
“Morir, motherfucker!” She growls.
Immediately, two large bouncers rush her, one from each direction. They grab my sister and lift her off the ground while she flails.
Ivory grips his throat, pulling his palm away to reveal a smear of red.
“Oh no… Fuck!” I whimper, running to him.
“I’m okay, baby,” he breathes. “It’s just a cut.”
