Page 6 of His Fated Luna

“I tried to… but Auntie told me about some guests that are coming tonight.” I said slowly.

“That's not fair… we’ve been planning this night out for months.” Erica said in an irritated tone.

“I know, but she didn't even listen to me.” Then I offered Erica a ride as I slid into my car.

"Why don’t you come over today? Auntie Hilda mentioned about a… a birthday party for me… so, if we can’t go out, let's have fun at my place," I suggested excitedly.

Erica agreed without hesitation.

She pulled out her phone and quickly called her mom to let her know she was coming over to my place. Not that her mom would mind—she was rarely home, always out partying with whatever guy she was currently seeing. Her mom was a recovering alcoholic, but recovery wasn’t always a straight path. She bounced from one man to another, and just when things seemed to be improving, she’d fall back into old habits.I often felt bad for Erica, but I never let it show. Pity was the last thing my dear friend needed.

The entire ride home, we jammed out to our favorite songs. I laughed as Erica belted out the chorus toGirlfriendby Avril Lavigne, her voice way off-key but full of energy.

When we got inside, Auntie Hilda greeted us both. Maybe I was imagining it, but the moment she realized Erica would be staying for the party, her anxiety seemed to spike.

"Oh..." Auntie Hilda’s smile wavered slightly.

Erica, picking up on the hesitation, immediately backtracked. "I can come over another time if tonight is family only," she said slowly, as if realizing she might not be welcome.

"Don’t be silly, we don’t have any family," I said brightly. "It’s always just been Auntie Hilda and me… Isn’t that right?" I looked at my aunt cheerfully.

But her expression made my stomach drop.

She was gulping, shifting uneasily, her guilty eyes darting away from mine.

"Right?" I asked, my voice suddenly shaky.

Auntie Hilda sighed, fidgeting with the hem of her grey silk shirt. "Rose, honey… I think we need to have a talk. And… Erica, we love you, you’re always welcome here, but tonight… Tonight I need to speak with Rose alone. We have some people coming over to discuss some… things… regarding her—ah—parents." She finally landed on the last word after some hesitation.

Erica threw me a quick glance. "Don’t worry about it, Rose. I’ll hang out for a bit and leave before your guests arrive. Save me a piece of cake, Auntie Hilda!" she added with a grin.

"I’ll send some with Rose for you tomorrow," Auntie Hilda promised.

For the next hour, the only thing Erica and I could do was speculate on who was coming over tonight.

"Maybe…" Erica said playfully as I drove her home. "Maybe it’s your parents’ lawyers coming with a will saying you’re secretly a millionaire."

I glanced at her sideways before turning into the dreary trailer park where she lived.

"Highly unlikely," I said flatly.

Auntie Hilda was behaving so weird! First, she didn't let me hang out with Erica and now she wasn’t even being forthright about who was coming over tonight formybirthday party.

Erica hopped out, waving me off with a chirpy "Good luck!" before heading inside.

She was a wonderful friend, and I knew her life wasn’t easy. Some nights, Erica would just show up and tell me she needed to stay over, and I always understood what that meant. No questions. No judgment. Auntie Hilda and I always welcomed her with open arms.

On the drive back home, my mind was preoccupied with thoughts of the mystery guests coming over for my birthday dinner tonight. As I pulled into the driveway, I noticed an SUV already parked behind Auntie Hilda’s convertible.

If there was one luxury Auntie Hilda allowed herself, it was an expensive car. She had always had an affinity for high-end things, and I knew for a fact that she had never worked a day in her life. Any time I asked how she provided for us, she would alway say she lived off the returns of various investments my grandparents had made for their two daughters—Auntie Hilda and my mother, Estelle, who had died when I was just a baby.

The cool September night air made me dig my hands into the pockets of my white leather jacket. My boots clapped against the wooden steps leading to the old wooden patio of the only home I had ever known.

The first thing I noticed when I walked casually into the living room was a young man with wavy jet black hair and a muscular build sitting in my favorite recliner chair. His deep blue eyes gave me a quick once-over before looking away toward... toward...

My keys slipped from my hands.

The man sitting on the sofa was an exact replica of the picture of my dad I kept in my room.