Clessidra | Peter Parker.

21. runaway

It took a lot of strength for June not to barge into her house in full rage mode and start yelling at her mother. She hadn't done anything particularly horrible, actually, but June knew what that place was, and her mother being there wasn't a coincidence.

As if her arrival was signaled by something, June's father appeared from the kitchen and placed his hands on June's arms, forcing her to look at him with a firmness she had never seen in him.

"Don't be hard on her! Listen to her, be understanding and don't let your anger get the best of you! You understand?"

The girl got slightly taken aback by his words. Did he know everything already? Was there something her parents had always kept secret from her? The idea started to creep into June's head, and nothing she told herself made her change her mind.

June nodded, her eyes wide in shock. Her hands were shaking, but she knew her powers were being controlled. She slowly walked up the stairs and peeked her head inside her parents' room. Bruce followed her, keeping a fair distance.

The room was dark, but June could clearly hear her mother's faint cry even from afar. She gently opened the door and turned the light on, the sudden brightness making her squeeze her eyes shut.

When she opened them again, her mother was laying on her bed, her face hidden in the pillow while her whole body was shaking violently.

"Mom?" she asked uncertainly, making a few steps into the room. She made sure her father was next to her, supporting her.

Upon hearing her daughter's voice, Heather stopped crying and stood up, wiping her face from the tears the best she could. Her face was still red, though, and her eyes puffy. June had never seen her mother in such a weak state.

"June, hey, come here," Heather mumbled with a broken voice, patting the seat on the bed next to her. June reached her, but avoided any type of touch when her mother tried to grab her hand. She placed it on her lap and looked down on them, not daring to look at her mother's hurt expression.

"What were you doing in the clinic?" June asked, not even bothering to cover herself somehow. It couldn't be a coincidence, and June was sure of it.

Heather took a deep breath and looked towards Bruce, who sat down too and grabbed her hand, squeezing it.

"June, There's something we need to tell you."

When Heather tried to talk again, the words died in her throat. Tears brimmed in the corner of her eyes and she looked down, covering her mouth with her free hand.

"Your grandmother is dead, June," Bruce said, his eyes not giving June any emotion.

June felt a pang of nostalgia hit her, but tried to behave strongly. "I know, three years ago."

Heather shook her head, a sob shaking her chest.

"No, honey. She died today."

It wasn't possible. June remembered clearly the day when her mother told her. It was one of the few moments in which she didn't treat her severely, even if June had always thought that she didn't seem as broken as she should have been. Her grandmother had died of old age, she had gone peacefully, and June needed to understand it because it was how life worked, even if they couldn't understand it. June remembered crying, she remembered remaining home with a babysitter while her parents went to the funeral, and then a week later it seemed as if nothing had ever happened. Everything went back to normal, and her mother never mentioned the huge loss she had endured never again.

"That's impossible," she muttered, moving even further away from them.

"She had your same powers, June, but when she fell into the coma we thought it best for you to think she was dead. We hoped she would wake up, but she never did, until yesterday."