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My mother's feet shuffled over the wood as we followed her to the kitchen. She coughed a few times as she opened a cupboard and pulled out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. She leaned against the counter, sparked a cigarette, and took a long, slow pull. Smoke curled out from her mouth like gray ribbon as she stared at me.

Her eyes were glassy. Thin, red veins crept out from the corners, stretching for the deep black pits of her pupils. She stared at me, emotionless on the outside, but I could feel the weight of our past all around us. Her lips wrinkled as she sucked the end of the cigarette. The blazing ember on the tip sizzled and popped as it burned.

“It's been a long time. How are you?” I asked.

Poppy stayed close, her hands balled up against her chest nervously. I could feel how nervous Poppy was. Her body was stiff, and her breathing was shallow but quick. She didn't know my estranged mother was my olive branch. It was the only place I could think of where no one would find us.

My mother gave me a side-eyed look as she took the teapot off the stove and began to fill it in the sink. She didn't say a word. The cigarette dangled off her bottom lip as she took out three mugs and placed a teabag in each. She lined them up on the counter and flicked the head of ash into the sink.

“This is a nice place you got here,” I said. I was trying to get some sort of response out of her. Anything. I hated the silent treatment. I always had.

My mother grunted as she looked back at me and then moved her gaze to Poppy. “Who is she?” she asked. Her voice was soft, almost motherly, but I could hear the accusatory undertones.Where did she come from? Why is she with you? What did you do?

“This is Poppy.”

“Poppy? Is that your real name?” my mother asked her as she looked up at her under hooded eyes. “Sounds made up.”

“Yes, Ma'am,” Poppy answered. “My name is Poppy Aneska.”

My mother froze her movements, keeping her eyes on the counter. “Did you say, Poppy Aneska? Like Aneska Pharmaceuticals?”

“Yes,” Poppy said. “My father owns it.”

My mother cocked her head over her shoulder with a sneer on her face. “What the hell is a girl like you doing with my son?”

“Excuse me?” Poppy asked.

“Why would a girl from a wealthy, prominent family be hanging around with someone like him?”

“Mom, come on. Can you be a little less abrasive?”

“Oh, I'm sorry, Vega. Let me start over.” My mother turned to face Poppy head-on, her back straight and chin up high. “My name is Marcella Lobos. It's a pleasure to meet you.” She turned to me and gave a fake smile. “Is that better? Does that have your seal of approval? You want me to pretend like we're a loving, caring family, too?”

“Mom, please. I didn't come here to start an argument or open up old wounds.”

“Then why did you come here, Vega?” My mother grabbed the edge of the sink tightly. Her bulbous knuckles turned white as she leaned over the sink.

“I came because I need your help.”

“You do look like shit.” Her brows dropped hard into the bridge of her nose as her gaze moved around my face and body.

I looked down at my dirty clothes and stained hands. “Yeah, it's been a long couple of days.”

“What did you do now?” she asked. My mother quickly threw up a hand and said, “You know what? I don't want to know. I did everything I could to avoid this. I moved; I changed my name; and yet, here you are.”

“Mom, we just need a place to stay for a day or two, and then we'll be on our way. That's it. I'm not here to cause any trouble.”

“You got involved with the wrong people again, didn't you? I knew this would happen. This is why I left. This right here.” My mother pointed at me with her cigarette perched between two fingers. “I warned you, Vega. I warned you. But did you listen?No. You couldn't be bothered. You thought you knew it all. But I fucking warned you.”

“Mom, please. It's not what you think.”

“Oh no? You said the same thing before, and look what happened. Your father was killed because of you. And now you want me to just let you waltz right back into my life and ask me for a favor? This type of favor? I've spent the last twelve years hiding because of your choices, and trying to forget the past.”

I hung my head and stared at the floor. “Mom—”

“No,” she growled. “You don't get to do this. You ruined my life, Vega. You stole everything from me. This life stole everything from me. I lost a husband and a child because of it. So don't expect me to jump around for joy when you show up at my door.”

My gaze jumped to Poppy. She was trying to read the situation and figure out what had happened between us. She crossed her arms over her chest and tilted her head. I shrugged a shoulder.