By the time Sofia got off the phone, Emma was already in the process of braiding. “I’m sorry. Mom’s gone on a business trip, so it’s chaos around here,” she explained. Mrs. Hernandez was the top management consultant at Berry Wagner & Company, a local consulting firm. Although most of her work was based in California, she sometimes took jobs that required her to travel around the country. When she wasn’t busy advising clients on how to better run their business, she taught a kickboxing class at the YMCA. Basically, she was a badass.
“Where’s your dad?” I asked, glancing at the living room couch where Mr. H usually camped out with his laptop. He ran a web design business from home so someone was always around to look after David and Emma, but today he was nowhere to be seen.
“Taking care of his aunt in Phoenix. She came down with smallpox or something.”
I frowned. “Pretty sure smallpox was eradicated back in the eighties.”
“She has shingles, you dipshit,” Javier clarified.
“Oooh! If Mom knew you used a swear word, you’d lose TV privileges for a week,” Emma told her brother.
He whirled around on the barstool. “But we both know she won’t find out, right, Emma? Because if she does, Abrahamster Lincoln will go poof in the dead of night, and you’ll never see him again.”
Eyes wide, I leaned toward Sofia and whispered, “Did he just threaten to off your sister’s hamster?”
She glanced at her sibling and shrugged. “That’s the least of my problems. My parents left me in charge while they’re gone, which means I have to do everything around here.”
“Hey, I took care of dinner tonight.”
“Congrats, Javi. You picked up the phone and placed an order. David can’t speak in full sentences, and he could’ve done that.”
“Fruloo!” David squawked in response. “Fruloo, fruloo, fruloo!”
My brain wasn’t hardwired to interpret baby babble, but Sofia understood what he was asking for and pulled a box of Froot Loops from the pantry.
“So what’s with the impromptu visit?” she asked, pouring the colorful cereal into a small bowl. “Not that this isn’t a totally awesome surprise, but I thought we weren’t hanging out until tomorrow?”
Her question slammed me back to reality. For a few precious minutes, I was so blissfully distracted I nearly forgot about my discovery at home. “We were, but…something happened, and I had to get out of the house.” After finding the script, I’d packed an overnight bag and slipped out without telling anyone I was leaving.I wondered if my dad, who was still on the phone when I’d glanced into the kitchen, had even noticed I was gone.
Frowning, Sofia took David from my arms and put him in his high chair. “With Violet?”
“Kind of,” I said, my gaze darting between Sofia’s siblings before returning to her, “but do you mind if we talk somewhere more private?”
“Sure thing. Javi, I’m gonna catch up with Indie. You’re in charge of Emma and David while I’m gone. That means you have to pull yourself away from the TV for five seconds to answer the door when the delivery guy arrives. Think you can handle that?”
“Hey!” Emma complained. “I’m almost eight. I don’t need a babysitter.”
“You’re right. Almost eight-year-olds are practically adults. Why don’t you keep an eye on Javi for me? We don’t want another high chair incident.”
Emma grinned and saluted her sister while Javier protested. “That wasn’t my fault!”
But Sofia ignored him, grabbed my wrist, and pulled me out of the kitchen.
Upstairs, I pushed a stack of Marvel movies away from the foot of her bed and took a seat, leaning against the old wooden frame. There was nowhere else to sit. Every inch of space was utilized.
The single mattress was buried beneath a tower of tie-dyed pillows and laundry so high that I wondered where Sofia slept at night. A tiny worktable held her most prized possession, a heavy-duty Singer sewing machine, along with a collection of fashionmagazines and a garden of tomato pincushions. In the corner, bolts of fabric were stockpiled against the wall next to stackable storage bins filled with lace and zippers and bows and buttons.
My favorite part of Sofia’s space stood directly in the middle—a vintage wire dress form that always displayed her current design. Today, pale blue chiffon poured down over the mannequin like liquid sky while the bodice sparkled with hundreds of hand-stitched crystals. It was a modern-day ball gown fit for Cinderella.
“This is gorgeous,” I said, eyeing the dress. My mind spun with inspiration, already considering different makeup concepts that would match her creation. Something ethereal and otherworldly, like an ice queen or fairy princess.
Sofia opened her closet, peered inside, and slammed it shut before an avalanche of shoes spilled out. “Thanks,” she said, barely acknowledging my compliment. “It’s for my cousin’s quinceañera.”
I cocked my head and watched as she flitted from one end of the room to the other, digging through a basket of scarves and ransacking her collection of stuffed animals on the windowsill. If I wasn’t feeling so shitty, I’d have laughed at how ridiculous she looked. “What are you doing?”
“Emma hid the old nanny cam in my room last week and used it to spy on me, so I’m making sure we’re totally alone.” She dropped down to her knees and searched under the bed before popping back up. “All right, I think the coast is clear. Tell me what’s going on.”
“I found this on my dad’s desk today,” I said, pulling the manila folder from my bag and thrusting it in Sofia’s direction.
