Page 20 of Sapphire

“Really?” she huffs, “because it doesn’t look that way to me.”

Like some kind of horror show about to unfold, my mom turns our way. Her eyes meet Mika’s first, then they flick to me.

Tears spring to Mika’s eyes. It’s been years, five if I had to count, since Mika’s seen her. I didn’t tell her about the last time Mom needed to borrow money, claiming it was for groceries, but I knew she wasn’t clean.

I don’t know what I expected, but Mika doesn’t move.

Mom looks at her shoes nervously, then puffs out her cheeks, as if she’s deciding what to do. She’s always been an attractive woman, there’s no doubt about it. She and Mika look exactly the same. Long, chestnut curls, except my sister has bangs, the same blue eyes. They’re both slight women and stand at five-three, Mom may be half an inch taller.

Mika faces me. “You lied to me.” She looks hurt and angry, her eyes full of unshed tears.

“No, I didn’t. I was protecting you. I didn’t want to hurt you.”

“You’re hurting me now. You know I’ve always wanted to see her again, and you were going to rob me of the chance.”

How the fuck did this become my fault?

“Because she’s only going to hurt you, except this time you’re well aware of it. I wish I could say she’s changed, but I don’t know that she has.”

“That isn’t for you to decide,” she throws back, but it’s too late. Mom is walking toward us.

Her eyes are also welling with tears. I’ve never seen her look like this; well dressed, makeup on, her hair styled. She looks alive. Like someone switched the light on inside her.

“Hello, Manika, Alexander,” she says softly. “I—I didn’t know you’d be here.”

“It’s a small town,” I mutter.

My sister just stands there like a statue, frozen.

“Mom?”

“We’ve established that,” I grunt.

“Hello, honey. Don’t be mad at your brother, you know how he worries.”

Anger boils inside me. How the fuck would she know what I am and what I’m not? She was too wasted, partying instead of raising her kids, and now she’s lecturing my sister?

“Of course she knows,” I say, malice in my tone. “I raised her, remember?”

Then I’m horror-struck as my sister rushes at my mom to hug her, tears freely flowing now. “Mommy.”

I pinch the bridge of my nose. No fucking way.

“Oh, sweetie.” Mom’s crying, too, and people are starting to stare.

“Why don’t you take a seat?” I mumble. “People are trying to eat. They don’t need dinner and a show.”

The two of them stare at each other as Mom tucks my sister’s hair behind her ears, assessing her. “You look real pretty, Manika, stunning.”

“Where were you?” she bleats, sliding into the booth as Mom sits next to her. “Why didn’t you call?”

Mom glances at me, and I stare at her stony-faced. Yeah, Mom, why don’t you tell her?

“Honey, there’s a lot I have to answer for, but now isn’t the time or place⁠—”

“Damn straight,” I cut in.

“Sin?” My sister shoots me a death glare. “Enough! I’m not a child anymore, you don’t get to decide for me.”