Louder.
Fuck. Just. One. Freaking. Minute.
“I SAID I NEED A MINUTE!” I snapped.
But then… A different voice, softer, calmer, broke through.
“It’s Nana, my dear. Can I come in?”
I froze. Even my tears stopped coming like I had hit pause on my entire body. My breath hitched as I wiped my face, trying to shove the panic down back to wherever it had crawled out from.
Human. Now.
I couldn’t let Nana see me like this. She’d never let it go, and I couldn’t handle her worrying right now. I needed to get it together, at least on the outside.
“Nana, of course. Come in!” I called out, forcing my voice to sound steady. The door creaked open, and there she was, calm as ever. Nana stepped inside like she had all the time in the world. She didn’t look like she was here to comfort a complete mess of a granddaughter. She looked like she was strolling into a garden for a midday chat. Her face held that serenity I envied so much.
I hoped I could get to that place one day.
Her eyes locked onto mine, and I knew she could see everything—every crack, every tear I was attempting to hide. I smiled to give her some reassurance, but it was useless. I could never keep my mask on with her. Nana didn’t push. She never did. She came over and sat beside me on the bed. It felt easier with her around, like she absorbed all the noise and chaos. She didn’t say a word, waiting for me to start when I was ready.
My voice came out in a shaky mutter. “You missed Chris. He was just here.”
Her face didn’t flinch, didn’t change at all. She nodded like that was the most natural thing in the world.
“I can see that,” she said softly, reaching up to brush away a stray tear I hadn’t even realized was still clinging to my cheek.
That tiny, simple gesture shattered me. The dam broke, and I couldn’t hold it together anymore. The tears spilled over again, faster and harder, and with them came the words I hadn’t been ready to say. Saying them made it all feel even more unbearable, more real.
“We were supposed to meet, Nana,” I choked out between sobs. “Twelve years ago…”
She didn’t rush to respond or fill the silence with questions. She let the words settle before saying, in the calmest voice: “I know, dear.”
Her words stopped me cold. My sobs caught in my throat, and I blinked at her, trying to process what she’d said.
“What?” I whispered. I wiped at my face, trying to see her clearly through the blur of tears. “You knew? How?”
“I’ve always told you how special you are. How gifted,” Nana said.
I hated that word.Gifted. People used to say it when I was a kid, back when I could pick up on things faster than other kids my age. But then I grew up, and all that “potential” people used to talk about became a source of disappointment. Suddenly, my “gift” was me being too much.
I shot up from the bed, anger swelling in my chest, giving me the fuel to move.
“I’m not gifted! This is insanity! I should be locked up in a facility!” I snapped. If someone, even Nana, could see inside my head for five minutes, they’d have me admitted in a heartbeat. I knew that. I had always been good at pretendingto be normal, but the cost of wearing that mask… had been breaking me piece by piece over the years. And now, I was completely shattered.
I stomped to my closet, yanking it open like it had offended me. The sight of my perfectly organized clothes mocked me. My compulsions, my need for order—what a joke. In a fit of frustration, I grabbed as many hangers as I could and threw the clothes to the floor.
“My sweet, sweet Jules…” Nana’s voice was calm. Her tone almost pissed me off even more. “Why can’t you admit you have a gift? You can see so much more than other people.”
“What are you even saying, Nana?” My hands were shaking as I looked at her.
“Life is like a radio, my dear. Most of us can only listen to one station at a time,” she said, her expression soft, like she was explaining the simplest thing in the world. “But that doesn’t mean the other stations aren’t there, playing… somewhere else.”
Oh, great.Nana had gone fully deranged.
I paced the room, running my hands through my hair as I muttered, “I see where I got the crazy from.”
She ignored my sarcasm.
