Page 114 of Pets in Space 10

The gate at home groans like a dying beast as I push it open, the sound echoing the hollow ache inside me. Each step up the cracked path is a fresh wave of pain, my knee screaming in protest, my heart a lead weight shoved into my chest.

My life is officially a dumpster fire raging inside a collapsing building during a category five hurricane. First the knee, taking soccer from me, my one true joy, my escape. Then Rhys reappears, a ghost from a past I hadn’t buried, stirring up feelings I didn’t want.

Now the I.A., the career I built, the place I actually felt competent, deems me ‘non-core.’ Expendable. And to top it all off, I sleep with Rhys and then accuse him of being part of some cosmic conspiracy against me.

Excellent. Just perfect, Rosa.

Maybe Demi was right all along. Maybe I am a walking disaster magnet.

I fumble with the lock, my fingers clumsy and numb. The heavy door swings inward with a long, low creak, releasing a gust of stale, musty air. Home. Or what passes for it these days.

“Rosa, I didn’t expect to see you home.” Raimei comes trotting out of the kitchen. “Did things not go well with the bendy man?”

I don’t answer, just shuffle inside, kicking the door shut behind me.

I drop my bag with a thud, ignoring Raimei’s muffled grunt.

Leaning against the cool plaster of the wall, I squeeze my eyes closed, trying to block out the image of Rhys’s face — the hurt, the confusion, the sorrow — as I fled his apartment.

He probably ghosted me a year ago because he realized then, on some subconscious level, that I was a mistake waiting to happen. He knew before I did.

Redundant. The word echoes in the silence, sharp and cruel. My career, my passion. Dismissed in corporate jargon.

“Rosa?”

I flinch, opening my eyes. Winta stands in the archway leading to the living room, a book held open in one hand, her expression soft with concern. Her gaze sweeps over me, taking in the tear tracks I haven’t bothered to wipe away, the way I sag against the wall.

“What happened?” Her voice is gentle.

That is all it takes. The dam inside me cracks, then shatters.

A sob tears through my walls, harsh and ragged.

“They’re laying me off, Win,” I choke out, the words tumbling over each other in a torrent of grief and anger.

“My job… it’s gone. I got the notice. Non-core.

That’s what they call us. Just… non-core. ”

Winta rushes forward, pulling me into a hug. She says nothing, just holds me while I cry, great, gulping sobs that shake my whole body. Her embrace is warm, solid, a small anchor in the storm threatening to pull me under.

Winta. My quiet, bookish sister. She always knows when words aren’t needed, when a simple, steady presence is enough.

I remember her sitting with me after I failed my first I.A.

pre-test, not judging, just being there.

She’d done the same when I’d had my first real heartbreak in high school, bringing me tea and listening.

Winta is a great sister. She rarely jumps to conclusions or offers unsolicited advice.

She just… understands. Her quiet empathy is a refuge in the often-chaotic Kimura household, a place where I feel seen, not scrutinized.

I let myself lean into her solid warmth now, grateful for this one stable point in my collapsing world.

“And Rhys…” I gasp between sobs, the name tasting like betrayal and regret. “I blew up at him. Said horrible things. He… we… oh gods, Win. I mess everything up.”

She guides me to the living room sofa, its sunken cushions offering the all-encompassing support I need right now. Her pair, Kiri, lies at the back door in the sun, a lump of gray fur slowly breathing. She must have come here for a quiet place to read.

Winta sits beside me, rubbing my back in slow circles. “Tell me,” she murmurs. “Tell me everything.”

So I do. The big meeting and what I said. Running into Rhys outside. The farmer’s market, the unexpected connection, the desperate need for oblivion, the mind-numbing sex, the devastating email, the furious accusations I hurled at Rhys. The whole sordid, humiliating mess.

Winta listens, her expression a mixture of sympathy and sadness. “Oh, Rosa. I’m so sorry about the job. That’s awful. Truly.” She pauses. “But the speech you gave? That takes guts. You stood up for what matters. You should be proud of that, no matter what happens next.”

Proud? I’m a failure. A jobless, injured failure who sabotages any chance of happiness.

“And Rhys…” Winta hesitates. “It sounds like he understands more than you think. You can fix it.”

“Fix it?” My voice rises, sharp with hysteria. “How? He probably thinks I’m insane!” I groan and put my head in my hands. “And I can’t seem to get past the part where he ghosted me.”

She winces. “That’s hard. No one is ever really sure who to trust, you know?”

I nod and blow out a long breath.

“But if he’s trying, then it’s worth giving him the trust he’s asking for.” Winta is full of brilliant advice, usually, but this is one thing I’m stumbling over.

“Everything is falling apart,” I mumble.

“Rosa, what happened?” Demi’s voice cuts through the air, and my head pops up from my hands. She rushes to my other side and sits next to me on the couch. She must have been in her room and come out, drawn by the sound of my breakdown. “Is this… Rhys?”

My head snaps up. “Who I’m with is none of your business, Demi.”

She jerks back at my vehemence. I do not need her meddling right now. I love her, but I need the kind of help Winta can provide, not Demi’s judgment.

“Whoa,” she says, raising her hands in surrender. “Don’t snap at me. He did this to you, didn’t he?”

“Nope.” I force a demented smile through my tears and raise my fist. “I did this! I got laid off!” I push myself up from the sofa, ignoring the stab of pain in my knee.

“It wasn’t Rhys. I fucked this up. All of it.

” I sigh as I hobble away. “Why can’t you stay out of it?

Why does everyone in this family think they have the right to meddle in my life? ”

“That’s not fair,” Winta says, frowning.

Demi’s face flushes. “We care about you. And we don’t want to see you get hurt.” She drops her voice and mumbles, “Especially by him.”

“You don’t get it. You have no idea —”

“I know more than you think!” Demi shoots back, her voice rising. “Why do you think he ghosted you last year, huh?”

I freeze. “What are you talking about?”

Demi jumps up from the couch and takes a step closer, her eyes flashing. “He was still tangled up with his ex.”

“Demi!” Winta hisses at her.

“Everyone was talking,” Demi insists.

“What?” I gasp out.

“Yeah. You wouldn’t believe the rumors at the studio I heard the very next day. He wasn’t serious. I saw how excited you were after that date, how hopeful. He was going to use you.”

An icy dread seeps into my bones. “Demi… did you…?”

She hesitates, sighs, and draws her bottom lip between her teeth.

“I… I talked to him. After. I found him leaving work. I told him…” She swallows and glances at Winta.

“I told him that if he wasn’t going to be serious about you, he should stay away.

That you were too good for him, and if he was playing games, he needed to back off before he broke your heart. ”

The air rushes out of my lungs. My sister. My protective, interfering sister. Had warned him off.

“You… you what?” The words are barely a whisper.

“I knew he was bad news,” Demi insists, her voice defensive now. “I didn’t want you to be another notch on his belt if the rumors were true.” She rests her hands on her hips. “And they were true. He didn’t argue with me. He went straight back to her.” She nods once. “I made the right decision.”

Shock renders me speechless for a moment. Then rage, hot, blinding rage surges through me. “Protect me? You interfered. You went behind my back and threatened him. You think that helped? Maybe he was serious! Maybe Chloe was the problem! Maybe you were the reason he ran!”

“I…” Demi falters, the certainty draining from her face.

“So his whole story… about Chloe… was that even true?” I ask, my voice rising.

“Or was it just easier than telling me my own sister scared him away?” My mind races, trying to reconcile Rhys’s confession with this new piece of information.

Did he lie? Had Demi’s interference been the final nail in the coffin?

They might both be true. The uncertainty is agonizing.

“I-I don’t know,” Demi whispers, her eyes wide.

“You don’t know.” I laugh, a harsh, broken sound devoid of humor. “That’s brilliant, Demi. Just so fucking great.” Betrayal coils tight in my chest, squeezing the air out. My sister. My own sister. My loving, caring, meddling sister. If I didn’t love her, I would strangle her.

Winta stands up, placing a hesitant hand on my arm. “Rosa…”

I shake her off. “No. Just… no.” I can’t look at either of them. The weight of it all — the job, the knee, Rhys’s disappearance, Rhys’s reappearance, my own self-sabotage, and now this… this staggering betrayal by Demi — crashes down on me.

I turn and head to my room, needing to escape, needing to be alone.

“Rosa, wait!” Demi calls after me, her voice pleading.

I don’t stop. I haul myself down the hallway, each step an agony, both physical and emotional. I slam my bedroom door shut, and the whole house shakes. I collapse onto the lumpy mattress, curling into a tight ball.

Fuck this. Fuck her. Fuck everything.

I’m now jobless. Injured. Ghosted. Betrayed. By my own sister. And I pushed Rhys away again, for good this time, fueled by a panic Demi might have helped create in the first place.

I stare into the oppressive darkness, the silence broken only by the distant, mournful flapping of the tarp on the roof.

There is no escape.

Not from the crumbling house, not from my fractured family, not from the wreckage of my own life.