Enter Player Name: Riley

My fingers were white from the lack of blood. Each one of my hands, clung to the other nervously, restricting oxygen from my fingertips. I mauled over all the possible ways that my conversation with Noah's mother could turn sour. She, on the other hand, hummed a song under her breath as she prepared some coffee.

"Would you like any help, Ms. Jane?" I asked.

"No, I got it." She insisted as she placed the pot on the stove.

I looked around the kitchen. To say it looked glamorous was an understatement. The cabinets were an opaque white that enhanced the shine of the stainless steel appliances. The kitchen island, where my hands rested, was made of marble. Not a single scratch could be seen on its pristine surface. Next to the fridge was a separate clear screen door merged into the wall; countless bottles of vintage wine were stacked within it.

"Would you like a glass of wine instead?" Ms. Jane asked.

"Ahh, no, thank you. Noah says I drink too much when I am stressed, so I am trying to watch it a smidgen."

"For me, it was cigarettes," she laughed.

"You used to smoke?"

"Back in the day, before I had Noah. I have now ironically switched to a single glass of wine. So your problem is my solution. But, anyway, what has you stressed, Riley."

"You?" The unsureness behind my voice made Jane chuckle. "I assume you want to talk about the other day?"

"Cutting to the chase, I see."

"You don't seem like the type of woman that dances around things."

"Indeed. So I will state things bluntly. I am concerned about your relationship with Noah."

"Because you think I am a 'gold-digging whore'?" I asked as I met her gaze. Ms. Jane seemed to shift uncomfortably for a fraction of a second before she recovered her composure. At least one thing was evident, she was not expecting my bluntness.

"I admit, I did not handle that well. But Noah is my only son, so I would do anything to protect him if I thought someone was trying to harm him or take advantage of him. So I apologize for insulting you, but I do not apologize for protecting my son."

"I understand. I think in your position, with the information you had, I would have done the same. I do hope I would have left out some of those words, though."

We both chuckle. At some level, we both found comic relief in laughing at the past.

"Noah already explained to me the circumstances behind why you were on that site. I still would like to hear about it from you?"

"There is not much to explain. I honestly do not want to talk to you about it. Not because it is something that I want to hide, but because I don't want to be judged based on that. I think you would understand the sentiment of doing anything to protect your family. So like you don't apologize for being a protective mom, I don't apologize for taking care of my brothers."

"My father spent his final days in prison."

"Oh...I'm so..."

She raised her hands and stopped my words at the root of my mouth, "no need for pity. It is the reason I am here today."

"What do you mean?"

"Back when I was young, my family and I did not have much to show in terms of wealth. Yet, my father worked so hard to make sure we had what we needed at least. He would say, 'someday, you will have everything you deserve.' I never thought he would do illegal things to ensure his words would come true. But with the money he earned, I was able to go to college. I worked hard to build everything I have today. Because... I know... that my father gave up his freedom for me to do so." - her voice trembled slightly- "So if you are worried that I will judge for actions you took to care for you brothers, don't."

"It's not something that I am proud of. I want to bury it in my past and forget."

"I have never told Noah about my father?"

"Never? Didn't he ever wonder about his grandfather?"

"He died before Noah was old enough to remember. I would tell him stories about how he would play with his grandfather in our house. How his grandfather loved to hold him. So all he knows is the lies I have told him."

"Do you ever regret not telling him the truth?"

"No. His face would always light up when I spoke of my father—a false treasured memory in his mind. I do not want to tarnish the image he has of him. Some things are better left in the past." A tear dripped down her face. Ms. Jane's eyes looked longingly to her left. At that moment she was in a different space... at a different time.

I looked at the tissue box which sat at the edge of the table, plucked one, and held it in her direction. The action snapped her back into reality. She gave a gentle smile before taking the tissue from my hand. Ms. Jane dabbed it against her face as if applying powder to delicate skin. Any trace of sadness was dried away.

"I don't care what Noah thinks," she chuckled. Yet, the semblance of sadness was still present in her voice. "I would rather have a glass of wine, would you join me?"

"I think this is a time for wine."

Ms.Jane walked over to the glass door and opened it. Her finger perused through the wine, before finally landing on a choice. "It's a little sweet, but this one is quite a delicacy." She placed two glasses in front of us, and gracefully poured the wine.

"That got a little more personal than I expected. I hope my secret is safe with you." She held her glass out.

"Of course, Ms. Jane." I said, gently tapping mines against hers in cheers. We both smiled and took a sip.

"Thank you." We both sipped on the wine and enjoyed the momentary silence before she spoke once again, "I hope you don't find me dragging you off to have this conversation. I just want to make sure you hold no ill intentions towards my son. He is the only one I have, after all."

"I don't know if there is anything that I can say to calm your nerves. At the end of the day, actions speak louder than words. You don't really know me, so I think it's only reasonable for you to be concerned. All I can ask is that you trust your son's judgment."

"Well, that's the problem, isn't it?"- She chuckled- "Noah used to be quite the troublemaker." There was no harshness behind her words this time—just mild amusement.

"I'm not sure how Noah was in the past, so you may have your reasons to be cautious. But so far, I have seen someone who is extremely hardworking, caring, and compassionate. Surely, you must have done an amazing job raising him because he is a wonderful man. Everyone, at some point, makes mistakes. I think you should see him for the man he is today and not who he was."

"You seem to think very highly of him?"

"I do." A confident smile unconsciously overtook my face.

"Perhaps you are right, and I don't give him enough credit. Yet, I find myself hoping he would let me help him out more."

"I'm sure he would appreciate some help with his startup." This was great. I knew how much that startup meant to Noah.

"That knucklehead won't even let me near it. Ugh." Ms. Jane grunted in annoyance, she held her forehead as if a headache was taking over. "I mean, I get that he wants to do it on his own. But even I had help."

"From the way he talks about you, I think he has an idealized version. Maybe it would help to talk to him. It's hard to live up to the version of people that have had any rough edge smoothed out."

............................................................

"Riley, would you be so kind as to pass me those onions?" Ms. Jane asked.

"Of course, Ms. Jane."I scooted past Mikey and Jay, who were idly cutting some lime. It was nice seeing them so carefree.

"Oh, please, call me Jane." She requested.

"I'm not sure why, but Jane feels weird."

"I mean, if you want, you can call me future mother in law. A little presumption. But I have hope," Ms.- Jane teased.

"Jane, it is." My high pitched voice seemed to give her joy. I sighed in my head, something seemed to run in this family, which gave them too much pleasure at making people squirm.

Jane happily took the onions from my hands.

"Riley, dear, pass me those potatoes, please."

"Of course, Jane." I made sure to over-pronounce her name. The action seemed to amuse her.

I turned. Time stopped. My eyes widened at the figure in front of me. He stood. Enjoying the sight in the kitchen. A monster from my past.

The room spun, leaving me disoriented... The white around me shifted. It swirled in an endless vortex of color. Until all that was left was amber brown. Yet he remained at its center.

Against the back wall of the room, he sat. Idly chatting with the guard next to him. His hair was ash-colored, the black blended into the grey. He smiled. Wrinkles of joy formed around his green eyes as he chuckled at something the guard said.

He sat there. On his wooden throne. A large desk that stood taller than any soul within the room. The judge padded away a tear that fell as he laughed.

It burned against my skin.

The amber-brown wooden walls seemed to never end—a vast cage for those inside. Every single aspect of the room was designed to make you feel small. Towered. Looked Down Upon. Insignificant compared to him.

I watched in contempt.

The guard next to him cleared his throat, "the Honour Judge Nathan Kline will now preside over Case # 20367319-31. Will the defendants please take the stand."

A different guard, this one fat and short opened a small side door. My mom and dad, clothed in oversized orange suits and shackled by metal chains, entered the room. Their eyes snapped immediately to me. For a second, their heads fell in shame. But in a blip, they held themself tall and smiled warmly at me.

"Mom! Dad!" I screamed out, rushing to the rail that separated us. For a second, I forgot where I was, I forgot their attire, and all I saw was them.

"Order In The COURT!" The judge demanded from his place above.

"Don't worry Mija, everything will be okay." My mom patted my hand for a second. How I missed her warmth. But it was soon gone. She was guided away, and sat on the right desk.

"May the record show that the defendants will represent themselves. Do you understand what your charges are?"

"Excuse me, your honor. If we could have some more time to find a lawyer, it has been difficult to find one that we can afford?"

"You have been given the standard time. If you have not done so already, more time cannot be given. Do you stand as your own representation?"

"Ye..s?" My father answered. He looked trapped like a mouse cornered in a cage by a viper.

"Does either defendant 1 or defendant 2, have any documentation to present forth as evidence as to why deportation proceedings should be halted?"

"Well, your honor, we have 3 children who need us here to care for them?"

"My records show that you have a daughter who is already an adult?" The judge questioned as he flipped through some pages.

"Yes, we do." My mother answered.

"Then there is an adult that can care and take over their guardianship. Any other information you would like to present?"

"Umm..ughh." My dad looked around, lost. Unsure of what to say, he searched for any help. All he was met was by bored stares or by sympathetic looks of people that were just as lost as him.

"Case # 20367319-31 is closed. The deportation proceeding shall proceed as scheduled."

Before the judge's words were even finished, a guard began to move to walk them out.

I reached forward and clung my hand to the rail. "Please, your honor! Don't take them away! We need our parents!" I screamed at him. Tears flowed down my cheek.

For a second, something flashed in his eyes, before they returned to their impassive looking ones. "Please escort the young lady out of the room."

I struggled against the hold of the guard that tried to pull me back. I pushed against them, trying to reach my parents one last time. I wanted one last hug. But the chance was ripped from me. Shut behind a wooden door. My mom, wet eyes were the last thing I saw.

"Fuck you! You bastard. I fucking hate you. YOU HAVE NO HEART."