In Pieces

1 | A Funny Word |

One of the many perks of living in a castle instead of an average house was having a ginormous bedroom just for yourself. On the downside, the acoustics here didn't allow anybody privacy. I could hear everything. I mean, everything!

If I crouched by the window, I could hear the kitchen staff discussing what to cook for the day. As I got older, I was more interested in how the cook talked behind my mom and called her funny names.

Leaning an ear against the wall by the door let me listen to Dad's study. Though, I lost my enthusiasm when he started getting regular visits from one of our maids. Their conversations mainly consisted of long sighs, aahs, and oohs—and left me scarred for life.

The shower drain in my bathroom carried all sorts of noises through the old pipes. However, listening to that specific drain was risky. I could either hear the funny bantering of the maids and giggle, or stumble upon one of the fights between Mom and Dad and run back to bed.

I was more focused on hearing a specific word nowadays. I'd lie on my bed and wait for Mom to repeat it three times in her bedroom from the other side of the wall. A word I'd been hearing forever but could never remember...

She repeated it like a prayer sometimes. Sometimes, she screamed it as if it was a curse. Lately, it sounded like a plea when she called it three times. If only I could remember that stupid word!

I've tried repeating it, but after rolling around my tongue, the word slipped my mind. Writing it was useless because the moment the pen touched the paper, the word disappeared. I tried recording Mom's voice on my phone, but it was never audible. I even considered sneaking into my parents' bedroom to set up a camera, but come on! That would be creepy!

After another long, sleepless night, I headed to the kitchen for breakfast. Mom met me halfway down the stone stairs, took a drag from her cigarillo and rolled her eyes when I smiled.

"For God's sake, Alaia. If you want to be sociable, at least dress up properly."

I looked down at my red summer dress with flower prints. It was cute and presentable. Could it be my hair? I ran my fingers through my ponytail. My blonde locks were tied up neatly, no loose strands...

"Your flip-flops." Mom narrowed her eyes behind the fumes.

"Right." I wiggled my toes.

Flicking her lighter open and shut, Mom clicked her tongue and stomped up the stairs.

I waited for her to say something or at least shoot me a smile before she disappeared into the dark hall, but instead, she slammed her door and shattered something inside me. Ouch!

"Morning to you too, Mom. And happy birthday to me," I mumbled and dragged my feet to the kitchen.

My grapefruit had been waiting for me when I sat by the breakfast table. Dad's newspaper was neatly folded into a puffed pile at his usual place—he must have left for work early. The cooks and staff were sharing a few laughs, as always. I silently spooned my sour meal and raised my gaze when everyone stopped talking at once.

The redhead who loved serving Dad giggled and brought my cup of mint tea.

"Morning, Alaia."

"Morning, Lucy." I turned to the army of cooks behind the kitchen counter. "Please don't stop. I won't speak a word to you know who."

I expected them to go back to work and gossip about Mom while I scooped out another juicy piece from my fruit—but gasped suddenly when a metal thunderstorm shook the kitchen. The staff was banging and clashing their utensils.

I dropped my spoon and jumped in my place.

They were singing me happy birthday!

My heart thumped in my ears. My hands were sweating so much!