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I woke up under fluorescent lights instead.

His friend had drugged me that night. After what he did, I couldn't even sit up on my own. The doctors called them injuries. Dad called it being sick.

No one knew.

No one.

Edna came to see me while my father was away and promised she’d always be there. Years later, she still is. And now, she’s here for Milo too.

I smile at both Milo and Hayzel as I watch them interact. Milo's small baby eyes light up and sparkle as he tells Hayzel about his day.

I leave them both to it as I get up from the chair to make my way into the kitchen.

Then, stopping beside Edna, I watch as she continues to stir the hot pot of chicken soup. She turns her head to give me a small but tired smile.

“I made your favorite today. I knew you needed it after a stressful day.”

“That’s why you’re the best,” I smile at her as she continues working on tonight’s food.

“I’m proud of you, Reya, you’re going to do incredible things.”

Am I?

“Sometimes I feel like I should just take Milo and leave for another place.”

She stops suddenly, then turns back to me. “You’d leave Hayzel and I?”

“You could come with us; we’d live in a big house and be happy forever.”

Edna’s laugh is soft when she replies, “I’m too old to go elsewhere. You’ll find someone one day, fall in love, and get married, and so will Hayzel and Milo. You have an entire life ahead of you, Reya.”

“Nana, you’re dreaming.”

“Why not? You’re beautiful and smart and considerate, and you deserve it.”

“You love me way too much to see what’s wrong with me.”

Her gaze softens into that worried mosaic she always wore when I was younger.

“Nothing is wrong with you. You know, Hayzel didn’t have many friends in school when she was a kid. She was loud and expressive, and she loved doing whatever she wanted. The other kids said she was weird because she’d smile even when she fell or got hurt. They called her weird and loud for weeks. But one day she came home smiling brighter than ever—even though she’d been in tears the day before. I asked her what made her so happy, and she told me she’d found a friend, a real one, this time. She gave me your name.” She smiles and gently taps a finger over my heart. “I knew my student, and I knew how beautiful her heart was, and still is. You’re beautiful inside and out, my little Reya.”

Tears gather in my eyes as I meet her gaze. “Don’t do that, you know I don’t do well with kindness.”

Why does it hurt so much to hear something kind?

I never understood why I always felt so ashamed whenever Edna or Hayzel would be gentle with me. As if deep down, I don’t believe I’m worth this type of appreciation. My brain just screams that it’s not true. Kindness feels like pressure on a bruise. It hurts because it’s been missing. Like I always grieved it, for not having heard those words sooner, and for the version of little Mireya that needed them years ago. It feels overwhelming but warm at the same time.

Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Not here.

I’m the one who’s supposed to take care of others, not be the one taken care of.

She lets out a small and warm laugh. “Oh, Reya, you really don’t know how to take a compliment, do you?” She shakes her head with a smile. “That’s alright. Kind people never think they’re kind. The loud ones do.”

Believing her would be too difficult, it’s easier not to believe anything, safer, too.

She nudges the plate toward me. “Now go on, take this back to the table before dinner gets cold. And don’t walk too fast, your heart is still catching up.”

And so, I did.