*Mia's P.O.V *

A truck smashed Desi's parents' vehicle on the highway.

It's just ... To think I spoke with them, laughed with them, and now they are gone.

"It doesn't make sense."

"Does anything involving this family do?" Anton grumbles. Cynthia rubs his shoulders while I stare at a sleepyheaded Charlie.

His hair is a nest of dishevelled horror while he repeats, "It doesn't make sense."

He staggers to me. I sniff as he hugs me.

I don't know what to say, and the worst part is Desi!

"Oh my goodness, Desi!" My eyes bulge towards Anton, who flings his arms in defeat.

*

Tomorrow comes in silence. Anton and Cynthia visit the station for further information, whereas Charlie and I clean the house.

As we wash dishes, I try to quell my emotions, but they boil over. I grip the faucet, gritting my teeth.

"Mia?" Charlie throws a concerned eye on me. He takes my hand in his. When our fingers intertwine, his warmth is comforting. I almost let my thumb stroke his, but then something dawns on me.

I jerk my hands free. Too hard. Too fast.

Charlie's face discolours, so I blurt, "The ring was - it's in my dorm. I should be wearing it. I am sorry. I know it's really expensive, and you bought it -"

"Mia," he cuts me off. I fold my arms behind me, ready for a disapproving speech. To think he spent so much money on a gift I won't wear because of a frivolous incident -

"Mia, you don't have to be sorry," he chuckles, "and anyway, it's not important now."

Ouch.

He finishes up quickly, pours two cups of hot chocolate, and hands me one with the same 'it's not important' expression on his face.

I sip away the little ache in my chest, whereas he talks about Desi's parents in between his sips. The doorbell rings before he leaves me in my thoughts.

"Who is it?" I ask, not wanting to think anymore. Charlie reappears with -

"Hell no."

"Mia -"

"No," I interrupt him, my eyes glued to none other than Joe.

Joe clears her throat, but I beat her to it.

"Why are you here? Stay away from us. Get -"

She steps forward. "Listen -"

"Get out! Charlie, tell her to get out."

"Mia, please," replies Charlie. I shoot him a glare, but he lets Aunt Joe have a seat before pushing me onto mine.

"This is about Desi," he says, turning to Joe, who nods. I lean back.

"Hurry up and get out of my sight."

Joe winces. "I'm only here to tell you that I'll be bringing Desi over tomorrow. You should take her with you to the States. Please. And she doesn't know her parents are dead, so can you -" She hesitates. "Just keep it a secret for sometime."

"Oh," I muse, "... Ok."

Joe thanks me. Not replying, I watch her glance at Charlie uneasily.

He smiles and offers her some juice and water too fast for me to stop him.

As she lifts the glass, her phone rings. Frowning, she guzzles the juice, stashes the water bottle, and goodbyes us, leaving too fast for my instincts to ignore.

"Something's up," says Charlie. I agree.

*

So we follow Joe. Driving as fast as possible, I spot her car speeding too.

She parks at a children's park, so in the open that we alight two intersections away, sneak behind the closest hedge and zoom in to video her on my phone.

Joe plops onto a bench, glum. Her back straightens the instant Pamela appears. The difference in their mannerisms is too blatant - Joe is the mourner, and Pamela, the 'friend' consoling her.

As Pamela rubs my aunt's shoulder, I notice their lips move.

"Pamela is telling Joe that ... as Igor's remaining sister, she deserves his heart," Charlie narrates.

Pamela pulls out a cute pink box from her trenchcoat, handing it to Joe with a soft gaze. Joe opens it and casts a cursory eye on the calm Pamela. Their mouths are at it faster, so I tap Charlie.

"Um, I can't tell what Joe is saying," he grunts, "Pamela just said, 'You were in touch with his friend. You must know where their secret wealth lies.'"

Oh, and Joe's denying it. I presume from the aggressiveness of her response. She even walks away after Pamela laughs. I follow her while Charlie observes the latter.

Before she drives off, she dumps the box in a bin. Somehow, I manage to remove it as Charlie rushes to me.

"Oh, my - yuck!"

"Why? What is it?" Charlie takes the now-opened box. 

My gag reflexes kick in, and I yelp, "Put it in the bin!"

"No," he retorts calmly. My eyes widen, but he says, "She gave her Igor's heart, Mia."

"Huh?"

"This -" He points to the box's content. "This is Igor's heart. Pamela was using it to threaten her."

"Dude, that's ground meat." My tone tethers on uncertainty and torturous imaginations. It's too mushy to recognise; plus, it smells like blueberries.

Who perfumes a heart to smell like blueberries? Who even grinds a heart?!

"Ten bucks says it's not even a human heart."

"You mean pounds. Make it thirty," says Charlie. I agree.

We get home, wash down as if we swam in dirt and wait for Anton and Cynthia to show them the video.

Not even a minute into it, Anton says, "This is pointless on Pamela's part. Joe has nothing. How can she help her -"

"Unless she's the interim CEO," Charlie interjects.

I am seeing the possibility. If Joe becomes the CEO, she may gain access to all accounts for funding projects. During my meeting with Desi's parents, they hinted that they want to dabble in telecommunication underway, which would render them unavailable for three years. It was the main reason they were thrilled to keep Desi with me.

"We shouldn't even let Joe become CEO. We should -" Anton pauses to ponder. "Aha, we should edit this to make it seem like they are conniving against Granny."

"Still, Pamela can manipulate whoever gets the position, " says Cynthia, to which her fiancé quips, "She can't do that to me."

"Dude, you gotta marry before you can even qualify to be a CEO," I state, causing the couple to share a look. Anton sighs, and Cynthia shakes her head.

"Uh-uh. I'm not rushing what should be the best day of my life." She stands. "And Mia, Charlie, thanks, but there's no point to this. We've been through enough nonsense with this family. Whatever they are up to, I don't care. Can't we move on from them?" Then she leaves for her room.

Anton is next to go, then Charlie. In my spot on the couch, I rewatch the video till my eyes tire.

*

Stirring from the warmth of sunrays, I take a minute to open both eyes, another to yawn and two more to roll down the blanket covering me. The morning is so golden. It casts hazy hues around the edges of everything in the hall. I smile as the light bleaches the luscious mop of hair on the opposite couch.

Charlie rolls onto his other side while his eyelashes quiver.

"Stop being creepy, Mia."

"Huh?" I tilt in the direction of the comment.

Desi waves from the hall entrance. "Watching people sleep is creepy."

I chuckle, though my heart is pounding. Desi trudges to me, glances at him, and tsk-tsks. "There's no way his face is that smooth naturally."

"He takes good care of his body." I get up. Rolling her eyes, Desi plays with his hair.
I meet her driver, who informs me that a jet will be ready for us at noon.

The thought of travelling in this family's property disturbs me, but for Desi's safety, I mutter thanks. Back inside, I
take a bath, whereas Charlie banters with the girl and makes her pancakes.

Noon comes soon enough. Desi pressures Charlie to enter the jet with us. He gives in.

Once we arrive in the US, though, he departs to Harry's college while I take Desi.

**

"Woah. This is how college is?!" she gasps as we speedwalk to my dorm. Her amazement escalates when she enters my room, thanks to Rhaka's posters and cosmetics.

"Desi, don't touch anything."

"Oo, what is this -" She touches stuff anyway. I ask her to help me pack for the new apartment, only to doze off on her lap.

She wakes me to ask, "Is this your vibrator?"

"Herh!" I yank it from her, causing Rhaka to yawn. "Oh, it's mine. Though, your cousin might need one since she wants to die a virgin."

"Mia, you want to die a virgin?" Desi's brows knit. Before I can respond, Rhaka snorts, "Otherwise, why would she turn down a hot guy..."

Before I know it, I've bathed, dressed up, and eaten all while Rhaka blabbers.

Desi listens enthusiastically, yet once we leave, she groans, "Your roommate is so cringe."

"Cringey," I correct.

"My sentence is correct," Desi retorts, flipping her hair. "Anyways, I think you should date more."

"Not you too."

"Seriously, Mia." She plops into my car. "You know my parents met in college?"

Desi, why do you have to bring up your parents? It's already hard pretending that they are alive. I wince.

My chest sinks under her gaze, whereas she waits for a response with a smile. I have to act cool and ur, mask the pain.

"You know what? You are right. I should definitely date!" I squeak, and then let her have my phone.

She instantly texts the guy, claiming to be an expert rizzer. I steal glances at her to be sure she doesn't suspect a thing.

She's fine now, but how will she react when I tell her?  I wonder this as we reach the apartment and she announces my first-ever date. I feign approval, strutting to the front step.

Correction: our front step. Our home.

*

*

Our home is peaceful when I leave Desi with Charlie and Harry.

When it's just us, though, Desi complains about even the slightest inconvenience. The girl acts like we've been here for two decades and not two weeks.

It doesn't help that thoughts of the 'meat'  plague me. To appease myself a little, I've contacted a lab pal to help me test it.

I meet my partner at the lab on Friday. We set up everything we need, having sought permission to use the facility not too long ago.

I reveal the 'meat' from Pamela's box, already disgusted by its sliminess. It takes hours of us sprinkling calculated drops of chemicals, looking through microscopes and whatnot, to find out it's a heart mashed with blueberries and potassium cyanide.

It's a fucking heart. Great. Superb! Now I know how it feels to wish I minded my business! I'm disgusted, disturbed, shocked, shaking in my bones, annoyed, gobsmacked - all negative swellings in my chest.

"I think there's more stuff to find, cuz look." My partner points out lumps filled with something rocky.

I glimpse it and say, "Maybe we should ask our lecturer or someone more capable. I am having a bad feeling about this."

"Same." He looks up from the microscope. "I'm guessing it's drug effects on the heart, though - what kind of drug does this?"

"Let's stop here." I am getting sick of watching it already.

My appetite enters a hiatus.

*

When I pick Desi up, she eats all my food. I just nod to her mouthful-rant.

"...Are you ready for your date?"

"Huh?" Don't vomit, Mia. Listen to what she's saying. What is she saying?

"Are you ready for your date tonight," Desi says more persistently.

"If you are referring to my meet-up with the nanny, it's tomorrow, actually."

"No, dummy," she interjects, "your date with Damien."

My - what?!

*

Note to self: never let your tween cousin text for you. Desi set me up on a date. Today! Like right now! After making it to the restaurant she proposed, I sit with my thoughts.

So, what now? Should I test if it's Igor's heart? Should I report? So... What is Pamela capable of? 

My mind is in the eerie 'heart'-ville when a tap takes me out. I jolt.

"Sorry to scare you." Damien smiles, taking a seat. I wave dismissively, and he admits that he didn't expect to hear from me again since my rushed call.

I reply, "Oh, sorry if I sounded rude -"

"No, no, no. I find it nice that you thanked me. I'm Damien, by the way. "

"Ya, I know. I'm Mia."

"A pretty name for a pretty lady." He compliments me as if he didn't know it already. He's conventionally attractive, everything Rhaka described. As his brown eyes admire me, I recall Cynthia's words.

Can't we move on from them?

Yes, I can.