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I laugh, because I know exactly what I’m talking about. “You know why I joined the FBI? Because when a system turns against human rights for power and money, you can’t fight it from the outside.” I move closer. “You have to be on the inside and destroy it from within.”

His gaze hardens. “Don’t forget your place.”

“I won’t forget it. One day, I’ll burn your throne to the ground and expose every single one of your secrets.”

“I have contacts at the bureau,” he says with a fake smile.

I turn around, already opening the door. “I’ll burn them too. I told you, I’m inside this organization for a reason.”

47

Mireya

Play - Sun Beached Flies by Ethel Cain

The nightmare always comes

The floorboard creaks and it echoes in the hallway. The sound makes me flinch slightly but then I see Milo appear in the doorway, smiling brightly.

“Sissy, you look really tired,” he says like he’s worried.

I don’t try to hide it. “I am,” I admit, stirring the pot so the bottom won’t catch. “But now I’m with you, so I’m not tired anymore.”

He hops up on the stool and wraps his small arms around my waist, burying his face in my hip as I ruffle his hair.

“Can I put the movie on?” he asks. “The Goonies?”

“Yeah. Go on,” I say, and he scrambles up the steps, two at a time, lights the living room with the click of the remote.

On the stove the chakhchoukha is ready to be finished. I ladle big spoons of sauce onto the torn bread. We’re quickly sitting in front of his favorite movie, the food smells good, and Milo’s already giggling.

He leans over, nostrils flaring. “I love this dish,” he says after his first bite, words muffled.

“It comes from the country where our mom was born,” I tell him. “You’re half Algerian too, you know.”

“Yeah,” he says, face brightening. “It’s delicious.”

I laugh, the sound coming out softer than I expect. “Yes, it is.” I add, because I like the way it sits between us, “You know it’s the biggest country in Africa?”

He makes a small, impressive sound. “That’s huge. Does it have dragons?”

“No dragons, firefly,” I say, grinning. “Just a lot of stories and a lot of pride.”

We sit together on the couch with a big plate between us and the movie does its loud, silly thing. He quotes the lines he remembers, and every time he laughs I let my shoulders drop a little further.

He smiles like her, and laughs like her too. Sometimes it’s like she never left when I look at him.

“By the way sissy, the boy who dropped you off, is it your boyfriend?”

“What boy? You mean my professor?” I ask.

He nods before saying, “Yeah, Damien. I didn’t know professors could drop you off after school, mine never do that.”

I laugh, shaking my head at him. “It’s because he’s kind and kind people do kind things.”

Milo bounces his head in approval, “So he’s not your boyfriend?”

“No he’s not,” I reply quickly, my cheeks burning, “Focus on the movie and don’t tell dad about this, okay?”