Prologue
LILAH
Today started out as an excellent day. It started off like any other day. I woke up, made breakfast for my sisters, checked the almanac to see what the forecast for my zodiac sign was. I know. I sound young and immature. I get it. But I believe in not only something higher than me but also in the universe.
For instance, when I wake up in the morning, I take a few minutes to meditate. I give myself the time to seek my aura. I believe the colors surrounding my energy are a foreshadowing of my coming day. Which is how I knew today was going to be great and it was.
Today is the day I go to the Manhattan Library and read to the children who come from the daycare. It is the best part of my week. I love their smiling inquisitive faces as they listen to the stories and ask questions. Lately, the day has been made better by the frequent visits of Markis.
I met him for the first time a month ago when he came in here looking for a book on 16th century literature. The head librarian was at lunch and even though I don’t work here, as a volunteer and frequent reader, I know where everything is, so I offered to find it for him. We spent hours talking about his job as a history and literature teacher for a Community College. His wit, knowledge and charm entranced me. I listened as he regaled me with stories from his travels in England and all across Europe.
By the end of the first meeting, he made me promise to be here the same day and time. For the last four weeks, this has been our timeline. Last week, it elevated to lunch across the street and an occasional handhold. He explained over our first lunch that he follows the rules of old. He believes in courting, chastely and earning the hand of his betrothed. Most girls would find it weird and balk at it, but I don’t know, I find it sweet. It certainly lifts the pressure from worrying about kissing and sex. None of which I have any experience with.
During our lunch today, he was asking me about my family. I smiled. My family is my safe space. The one place I always fit in. There are eight of us, all girls. My father was a Mexican Immigrant, fresh across the border when he met my mother in a diner in Texas. She often said it was a good thing he had been practicing his English for months before he came because we might not have been born. They were married three months later and living in California. She was nineteen and he was twenty-five.
Nine months after they were married, my mom gave birth to Catalina, followed by Margaret, Melinda, Gabriella, Evelyna and then I am an identical twin. My twin sister’s name is Lily. When Luna was two, my dad died from a heart attack. Apparently, he had a defective heart valve, and it went undetected until the day he passed away.
My mom was left raising eight rambunctious girls on her own, trying to maintain a life for us. The cleaning business my parents had created was the only source of income and to make that work, she worked night and day. The older girls basically took over at home. They cooked, made sure we got to school and took care of themselves. It wasn’t that my mom was neglectful or didn’t make time for us. She did. She simply had to work to put food in the house and keep the lights on.
He seemed intrigued and sympathetic. Halfway through the conversation, my phone rang. Looking down, I saw it was my little sister Luna, the only one left at home. “Hey Lulu, what’s up?” I asked her, smiling at Markis as he played with my hand.
“You guys have to come home.” I didn't notice the crying in her voice, at first.
“What happened?” I asked her, panicked, with my throat clogged.
“Mom’s in the hospital. I can’t…I can’t handle this on my own. I need all of you.”
“What happened? Is she alright?” I ask a dumb question, but my mind is malfunctioning.
“She's sick, Lilah. She is really sick.” she barely gets out of her mouth.
“What do you mean? Like the flu or something?” I know I sound dumb, but this is my mom she is talking about, and I am full on panicking.
“No. Just come home. You guys have to come home.” she hiccups as she tried to be brave. At this moment, nothing else exists. My mom and sister need us.
I try to explain what little information I have to him as I grab my purse and try calling my older sister. After comforting me, he hails me a cab, pays for it and tells me he will come for me. I watch for a moment as the cab pulls me further away from him.