It’s the same walls, the same floors, the same photographs hanging in the hallway.
But something has shifted.
Something has changed.
The air feels heavier, like it’s filled with secrets I’m not meant to know.
It’s been three weeks since Isabella and Elena moved in.
Three weeks since my world started crumbling.
I walk through the living room, and I see them.
My father and Isabella, sitting together on the sofa.
She’s leaning into him, her hand resting on his chest.
He’s smiling at her like she’s the most beautiful woman in the world.
He used to smile at my mother like that.
I feel something twist in my chest.
Something sharp and painful.
“Good morning, Aitana,” Isabella says, her voice warm and sweet.
“Did you sleep well?” I force a smile.
“Fine.” She pats the empty space beside her.
“Come sit with us.
Rafael and I were just talking about the plans for the clubhouse.
We’re thinking of redecorating the kitchen.
It needs a woman’s touch.” My blood runs cold.
The kitchen.
That was my mother’s space.
Her domain.
She spent hours in that kitchen, cooking and laughing and filling the house with warmth.
And now Isabella wants to take that too.
“I think it’s fine the way it is,” I say, my voice sharper than I intended.
My father looks at me, his eyes soft and pleading.
“Aitana, your mother hasn’t been here for years.
It’s time to move on.
Isabella has some wonderful ideas.
She’s going to make the clubhouse feel like a real home again.” I stare at him.
I can’t believe what I’m hearing.
Move on?
How can he say that?
How can he just erase her like she never existed?
I open my mouth to respond, but Isabella speaks first.
“It’s okay, Rafael,” she says, patting his arm.
“I understand.
Change is hard.
Aitana just needs time to adjust.” She looks at me, her dark eyes sharp and knowing.
There’s a smile on her lips, but it doesn’t reach her eyes.
She’s not my mother, I think.
She’ll never be my mother.
I turn and walk away before I say something I’ll regret.
— Later that day, I’m in the garage, working on my bike.
The smell of oil and metal is familiar and comforting.
It’s the only place where I feel like myself anymore.
The door creaks open, and I hear footsteps behind me.
“Hey, Aitana.” I turn and see Carmen, her sharp dark eyes scanning my face.
Her thick black waves are clipped up in her usual messy style, and she’s wearing her leather cut like armor.
“Hey,” I say, forcing a smile.
She walks over and leans against the workbench beside me.
“You okay?
You look like you haven’t slept in weeks.” I shrug.
“I’m fine.” “You’re a terrible liar,” she says.
“Come on.
Talk to me.” I look at her.
She’s my feircest defender.
My confidante.
The one person I trust with my secrets.
I take a deep breath.
“It’s just…
everything is changing.
My father is so focused on Isabella.
He’s given her the kitchen, the household, everything.
It’s like my mother never even existed.” Carmen’s face softens.
“I’m sorry, Aitana.
That’s rough.” “And my friends,” I continue, my voice cracking.
“They’re all talking to Elena now.
Laughing with her.
Joking with her.
It’s like I’m being replaced.” Carmen puts her hand on my shoulder.
“No one’s replacing you.
You’re our princess.
You always will be.” I feel a tear slip down my cheek.
I wipe it away quickly, but Carmen sees it.
“Hey,” she says, her voice gentle.
“What else is going on?
There’s something else.
I can tell.” I look at her.
I want to tell her everything.
I want to unburden myself.
“Carmen,” I whisper.
“I need to tell you something.
Something I’ve never told anyone.” She nods, her eyes steady and reassuring.
“I’m listening.” I take another deep breath.
“It’s about Leo.” Her eyebrows lift slightly, but she doesn’t say anything.
She just waits.
“I hate him,” I say, my voice trembling.
“I hate him so much.
He’s arrogant and cruel and he never stops taunting me.
But…
but sometimes, I catch myself thinking about him.
Wondering what it would be like if he wasn’t so horrible.
Wondering if maybe…
if maybe…” I trail off, unable to finish the sentence.
Carmen’s eyes soften.
“You like him, don’t you?” I shake my head, but the tears are falling faster now.
“I don’t know.
Maybe.
Yes.
I hate that I do.
He’s the worst.
He’s always been the worst.
But sometimes…
sometimes I see the way he looks at me, and it makes my heart race in a way that terrifies me.” Carmen wraps her arms around me and pulls me into a hug.
I bury my face in her shoulder and let myself cry.
“Your secret is safe with me,” she whispers.
“I promise.
I will never tell anyone.
Not even Leo.
Not even Diego or Sofia.
This stays between us.” I pull back and look at her.
“You promise?” She presses her hand to her chest.
“Cross my heart.
I would never betray you, Aitana.
You’re my best friend.
My sister.
I love you like family.” I feel a weight lift off my shoulders.
A small one, but enough to make me breathe a little easier.
“Thank you,” I whisper.
“I don’t know what I’d do without you.” She smiles, her sharp eyes warm and kind.
“You don’t have to worry about that.
I’m always going to be here for you.
Always.” I believe her.
I believe her with my whole heart.
We talk for a while longer.
About my mother.
About my father.
About the future.
It feels good to open up, to share the burden.
But as I look at Carmen, I can’t shake the feeling that something is wrong.
Something I can’t quite name.
I push the thought away.
I tell myself I’m being paranoid.
Carmen is my friend.
My feircest defender.
She would never hurt me.
Right?
— The next day, I walk into the clubhouse and see them.
My childhood friends, gathered around Elena.
She’s laughing at something Diego said.
Her wild curly hair bounces as she throws her head back, and her hazel green eyes sparkle with amusement.
Sofia is smiling at her, and Carmen is standing beside her, nodding along like they’ve known each other for years.
I watch them from across the room, and I feel something cold settle in my chest.
She’s charming them, I think.
She’s charming them all.
I walk over, forcing a smile onto my face.
“Hey, everyone.” They turn to look at me.
Diego grins.
Sofia waves.
Carmen’s eyes flicker with something I can’t read.
“Aitana!” Elena says, her voice warm and sweet.
“We were just talking about you.
I was telling everyone about the beautiful garden you showed me.
You have such good taste.” I force a laugh.
“Thanks.” Diego steps closer.
“You okay, Aitana?
You look tired.” “I’m fine,” I say.
“Just busy.” Carmen looks at me, her eyes searching.
She seems different today.
Distant.
Like she’s not really there.
I feel a pang of something in my chest.
Worry.
Anxiety.
The feeling that something is slipping away from me.
“Hey,” I say to Carmen.
“Can we talk later?
Just the two of us?” She looks at me, and for a moment, I see hesitation in her eyes.
Then she nods.
“Sure.
Later.” I walk away, my heart pounding.
I tell myself I’m being paranoid.
I tell myself nothing has changed.
But as I look back, I see Elena leaning close to Carmen, whispering something.
I see Carmen’s face shift, like she’s considering something.
I tell myself I’m imagining things.
I tell myself everything is fine.
But deep down, I know.
My friends are slipping through my fingers.
And I don’t know how to hold on.