Secret Daughter

Chapter 2

When I arrived home, or rather, at Isabella's house—my mom's best friend—it was eerily quiet. I figured Isabella and her husband Gabriel must still be at work.

Heading upstairs to my room, I couldn't help but notice the slight messiness. Clothes were strewn about, remnants of my ongoing efforts to settle in since my arrival three days ago. Jet lag still lingered, making the adjustment period a bit more challenging.

Despite the disarray, one thing that brought me comfort in my room was its soothing color scheme: a calming shade of purple, expertly arranged by Isabella. The curtains, rug, and even the bed frame were all in various hues of lavender, creating a harmonious atmosphere. The bed itself boasted a grand headboard, adding a touch of elegance to the space. A sleek white desk occupied one corner, with my laptop resting upon it, ready for use. LED lights adorned the upper wall, casting a gentle glow throughout the room.

Though there were still some finishing touches to be made, the room was slowly but surely taking shape. Isabella's talent for interior decorating was evident in every detail, a testament to her creativity and flair. And with Gabriel's profession as a dentist, there was at least one perk to look forward to: free dental check-ups.

After a long day at school, I decided to flop onto my bed and indulge in a much-needed nap.

"Mom! Mom!" I cried out as I saw her lying there, helpless.

"She's a freak!"

"Why are you even here?"

"Go die! Just like your mom!"

I was abruptly awakened from my nap by the chatter of voices downstairs, accompanied by the strains of music and the tempting aroma of barbecue drifting through the air. I shouldn't have taken that nap; these nightmares always seem to haunt me, leaving me feeling trapped in an endless cycle of memories I'd rather forget. 

Making my way downstairs, I noticed the back door was open, and Gabriel was manning the grill while Isabella worked on preparing a salad in the kitchen. As I entered, Isabella's gaze met mine, and she greeted me with a warm grin.

"Mirella, hi there. I see that you're awake," Isabella greeted me warmly as she chopped some tomatoes. I returned her smile and settled onto a bar stool at the kitchen island, watching her work.

"Oh, I bought a mini whiteboard for you to write on," Isabella added, nodding towards a plastic bag on the counter. I eagerly got up and retrieved the bag, finding a mini whiteboard still wrapped in plastic along with two markers inside. With a grateful nod, I unwrapped the board and discarded the plastic wrapping before taking a seat again.

'Thank you! :)' I wrote on the mini whiteboard and held it up for Isabella to see. She glanced up, reading my words with a smile. After erasing my message, I replaced it with a new one: 'Would you like some help?'

"No, that's okay, Mirella. I got this. Thank you for the offer, though," Isabella grinned at me as she finished chopping the tomatoes and moved on to the red onions. "Anyway, how was your first day of school, Mirella? Were you able to get by okay? I made sure to give every staff member, teacher, and principal a heads up about you," she added.

I frowned at her words, feeling a twinge of annoyance. I wished she hadn't disclosed so much about me to everyone. However, I quickly masked my reaction with a smile and wrote my response.

'School went well. I mean the teachers were good.' I wrote on the mini whiteboard as Isabella read my words. 

"That's good to hear. How are you feeling?" Isabella asked with concern evident in her voice. I glanced down, absently twiddling my thumbs. The truth was, I didn't quite know how to answer her question. Everything felt so unfamiliar and overwhelming since moving overseas to the States. It was like a constant culture shock, and I struggled to find my place. While the students talked about my silence and inability to speak, they remained oblivious to the reasons behind it, leaving me feeling misunderstood and isolated.