2012
Sunlight streamed into the d'Ancanto kitchen through lace curtains. Anna-Maria watched as her mother Priscilla kneaded dough for an apple pie. The sweet aroma of cinnamon and vanilla filled the air, creating a cozy atmosphere.
"Mom, can I help with the filling?" asked Anna, tucking a stubborn strand of chestnut hair behind her ear.
Priscilla gave her a quick glance and nodded: "Of course, dear. The apples are in the basket, don't forget to add more cinnamon—you know how Jimmy loves it."
Anna-Maria felt a slight pang of disappointment: she had hoped for a warmer response—perhaps even a compliment on her culinary skills. But she quickly dismissed the thought, focusing on the task at hand.
Taking a sharp knife, she began carefully slicing apples, trying to make the pieces perfectly even.
"Do you think we'll win first place at the fair this year?" she asked, attempting to start a conversation.
"Mmm," Priscilla responded absently, completely immersed in rolling out the dough. "Maybe, if we're lucky."
Anna-Maria sighed but continued working. She knew her mother wasn't intentionally ignoring her—she was just always a bit distant. At least, that's how Anna-Maria tried to reassure herself.
Suddenly, the kitchen door burst open, and ten-year-old Jimmy rushed in, all tousled and beaming with excitement.
"Mom! Mom! Look what I found in the garden!" he exclaimed, holding a small baby bird in his hands.
The effect was immediate. Priscilla's face lit up with a warm smile, and her eyes glowed with love.
"Oh, Jimmy, well done! Let's take a look at your find." She set aside the rolling pin and approached her son, gently embracing his shoulders. "You're so caring, just like your father," she said with pride in her voice.
Anna-Maria felt her heart tighten. She couldn't remember the last time her mother had looked at her with the same love and admiration. But she quickly suppressed this feeling, reminding herself that Jimmy was younger and needed more attention.
"Hey, little one, let's have a look at your new friend," Anna suggested, approaching her brother. She gently stroked the baby bird's head. "He probably fell from his nest. Maybe we can help him get back home?"
Jimmy beamed, looking at his sister with adoration. "Really? You'll help me?"
"Of course I will," she smiled. "After we finish with the pie, we'll find his nest together."
Priscilla watched this scene with a slight smile. "Anna-Maria, you're such a good sister," she said, but her voice lacked the warmth with which she spoke to Jimmy.
Anna-Maria felt her cheeks flush slightly from this meager praise. She returned to slicing apples, trying not to show her disappointment.
"Mom, can I help with the pie?" asked Jimmy, looking with interest at the kitchen counter.
"Oh, of course, sunshine!" exclaimed Priscilla. "Go wash your hands, and I'll show you how to roll out the dough properly."
Anna-Maria felt her hands clench into fists. She had asked her mother so many times to teach her this secret family recipe, but always received evasive answers. And now, it seemed, Jimmy would become the keeper of this tradition.
But she didn't show it, continuing to methodically slice apples and add cinnamon. From the corner of her eye, she watched as her mother patiently explained to Jimmy the intricacies of working with dough, her voice full of love and pride.
"That's it, well done!" Priscilla praised as Jimmy clumsily but diligently rolled out the dough. "You have a real talent, just like your grandmother!"
Anna-Maria felt a lump rising in her throat. She remembered how as a child, she had tried to help with baking, but always received only restrained nods and brief instructions.
"Mom," she called quietly, "I've finished with the apples. Is there anything else that needs to be done?"
Priscilla, without taking her eyes off Jimmy's work, waved toward the oven. "Yes, dear, you can preheat the oven. You remember the temperature, right?"
Anna-Maria nodded, though her mother didn't see it. She approached the oven, feeling a strange mixture of resentment and love. Despite everything, she loved her family and knew they loved her. Just... in their own way.
As she fiddled with the oven settings, her father, Owen, entered the kitchen. His eyes lit up when he saw the family busy preparing the pie.
"Wow! Looks like we're in for a real treat!" he exclaimed, hugging Priscilla and ruffling Jimmy's hair.
Anna-Maria felt a pang of jealousy but immediately checked herself. She was almost grown up and shouldn't need such obvious displays of affection. And yet...
"Dad, Jimmy and I are going to rescue a baby bird after baking," she said, hoping to attract her father's attention. "Would you like to join us?"
Owen smiled at her, and Anna-Maria felt her heart warm. "Of course, sounds great! We'll make it a family adventure."
For a moment, Anna-Maria allowed herself to enjoy this moment of family unity. Despite all the difficulties, they were a family. A happy family.
When the pie was finally in the oven, filling the house with a delicious aroma, Anna-Maria thought about the upcoming fair. She imagined how they would all stand together at the booth, proudly displaying their pie. How Dad and Mom would be smiling, holding hands, and Jimmy would be excitedly telling everyone how he had helped.
The bright summer sun flooded Coldwell's annual fair with light, transforming the town square into a kaleidoscope of colors, sounds, and aromas. Anna-Maria d'Ancanto, excited about the upcoming pie contest, held tightly to the basket containing their family's apple masterpiece. Her father walked beside her, holding little Jimmy's hand with one hand and carrying a folding table for their booth with the other.
"So, ready to conquer the judges with your culinary talent?" Owen winked at his daughter, his eyes gleaming with pride.
Anna-Maria smiled, feeling her heart fill with warmth. "I hope so, Dad. Though it's more Mom's recipe than mine."
"Don't be modest," Owen gently objected. "I saw how hard you worked. This pie is the result of our combined efforts."
Priscilla, walking slightly behind with a bag full of napkins and table decorations, pursed her lips. "The main thing is not to ruin our family's reputation. Last year, Mrs. Johnson almost beat us."
Anna-Maria felt her confidence waver slightly, but her father's encouraging look helped her pull herself together.
They approached the contest area, where other participants had already gathered. Owen quickly set up the table, helping Anna-Maria arrange the pie and decorations beautifully.
"There, excellent," he praised, stepping back to assess the result. "Looks magnificent, doesn't it, Priscilla?"
Anna-Maria's mother critically examined the booth. "Not bad," she finally said. "Jimmy, dear, maybe add a flower right here? You have excellent taste."
Jimmy beamed at the praise and reached for a flower, but accidentally caught the edge of the tablecloth. Anna-Maria managed to catch the pie just moments before it would have fallen to the ground.
"Careful, little one," she said gently, putting the pie back in place.
Priscilla frowned. "Anna-Maria, watch your brother more carefully. You know how much he loves to help."
Owen, noticing how Anna-Maria's spirits fell, quickly intervened: "Hey, what if Anna and I take a walk around the fair while the judges aren't starting the tasting yet? Priscilla, would you mind staying here with Jimmy?"
Her mother nodded, already busy adjusting the decorations on the table. "Of course, go ahead. Just don't be late for the results announcement."
Anna-Maria looked gratefully at her father, and they headed deeper into the fair together.
As they passed colorful tents and attractions, Owen placed his hand on Maria's shoulder. "You know, I'm proud of you, Anna. You're an excellent big sister and a wonderful daughter."
Anna-Maria felt a lump rising in her throat. "Thanks, Dad. It's just sometimes it feels like... no matter what I do, it's not enough."
Owen stopped, turning to face his daughter. "Listen to me, sweetheart. You are amazing. Your mother... She loves both of you, it's just sometimes hard for her to show it. But I see how hard you try, how you take care of Jimmy. And I know you'll achieve anything you want in life."
Anna-Maria's eyes filled with tears, and she hugged her father tightly. "Thank you, Dad. I love you so much."
"And I love you, my little star," Owen replied, gently kissing the top of her head.
They continued their walk, stopping at various attractions. Owen won a large teddy bear for Anna at the shooting gallery, and she in turn surprised him by scoring the maximum points in a game of accuracy.
"Wow!" exclaimed Owen when Maria knocked down all the cans with one throw. "You've got a real talent!"
Anna blushed at the praise.
"Maybe I should consider a career in baseball?" she joked.
Owen laughed.
"You can become anything you want, darling. The most important thing is to believe in yourself."
As they passed a cotton candy stand, they heard a familiar voice:
"Hey, Anna!"
Turning around, Maria saw Cade Parker—a boy from the parallel class she liked. She felt her cheeks flush.
"Hi, Cade," she smiled.
Owen, noticing his daughter's reaction, tactfully stepped back.
"I'll buy us some cotton candy, okay?"
Anna-Maria nodded gratefully, then turned to Cade.
"How do you like the fair?"
"Great!" replied Cade, his eyes shining. "I heard you're participating in the pie contest. I'm sure you'll win."
Anna smiled shyly.
"Thank you. Though the competition is serious."
They chatted a bit more, and Maria felt butterflies fluttering in her stomach with each of Cade's smiles. When Owen returned with the cotton candy, Cade politely said goodbye.
"Nice boy," Owen remarked, handing his daughter a pink cloud of sweetness.
Anna-Maria blushed even more.
"Dad!"
Owen laughed.
"Hey, I'm just an observant father. But remember: whoever comes into your life, you'll always come first for me."
Anna-Maria felt her heart fill with love for her father. In that moment, she was infinitely grateful for his support and understanding.
Returning to the contest booth, they found Priscilla nervously adjusting the tablecloth, and Jimmy watching the tasting process with interest.
"Well, is everything alright?" asked Owen, approaching his wife.
Priscilla nodded.
"The judges have already tried our pie. Jimmy charmed them with his story about how he helped with the baking."
Anna-Maria felt a pang of disappointment—she had hoped to present their creation herself. But, noticing Jimmy's beaming face, she suppressed this feeling and smiled at her brother.
"Well done, little one," she said, ruffling his hair.
Jimmy beamed.
"I told them how you taught me to roll out the dough, Anna!"
Anna-Maria's heart warmed at these words. Maybe she wasn't the center of attention, but her brother valued her contribution.
Finally, the moment came to announce the results. The d'Ancanto family, holding their breath, listened as the judge listed the winners.
"And first place in the fruit pie category goes to... the d'Ancanto family for their magnificent apple pie!"
Joyful exclamations erupted from all family members. Owen hugged Anna-Maria and Jimmy tightly, and Priscilla, to her daughter's surprise, also embraced them.
"We did it!" exclaimed Anna-Maria, her eyes shining with happiness.
"You did it, dear," said Owen, looking at his daughter with pride. "It was your idea to add cinnamon to the dough."
Even Priscilla, usually reserved in showing feelings toward her older daughter, smiled.
"Yes, Anna-Maria. You did a good job."
This praise meant more to Anna-Maria than any award. In that moment, she felt truly part of the family, loved and valued.
When they posed for a photo with the prize, Anna-Maria caught her father's gaze. In his eyes, she saw not only pride but also a promise—a promise to always be there, to support and love her, no matter what.
Leaving the fair late in the evening, tired but happy, they presented a picture of a perfect, loving family. Anna-Maria, holding her prize in one hand and her teddy bear in the other, felt that her heart was ready to burst with happiness.
Anna-Maria stood by the kitchen window, absently stirring a spoon in a cup of long-cold tea. Her gaze was fixed on the figure of her younger brother, Jimmy, who was busily fiddling with something in the far corner of the garden.
"Jimmy!" she called, opening the window. "It's getting late, time to finish up!"
The boy looked up. His face was smeared with dirt, and disappointment showed in his eyes.
"But, Anna! I'm almost done!"
Anna sighed, recognizing her own stubbornness in her brother.
"Alright, five more minutes. But then straight home, deal?"
Jimmy beamed and returned to his task with renewed enthusiasm. Anna smiled, watching his concentration. At ten years old, Jimmy already showed remarkable interest in nature and all living things.
Five minutes flew by. Anna went out into the garden, inhaling the aroma of freshly mowed grass and blooming roses—their mother's favorite flowers. Approaching her brother, she peered curiously over his shoulder.
"What are you building there, little one?"
Jimmy turned around, his eyes shining with excitement.
"It's a shelter for a hedgehog! I saw him last night; he looked so lonely and scared. I thought, maybe if he had a safe place, he'd stay with us in the garden."
Anna's heart filled with warmth. Jimmy's care for the defenseless creature touched her deeply.
"That's very sweet of you, Jimmy. I'm sure the hedgehog will appreciate your efforts."
She sat down beside her brother, examining his creation. A small house was constructed from branches and leaves, and inside, Jimmy had laid a soft bedding of grass.
"You know," Anna began, carefully choosing her words, "sometimes even the best intentions can have unexpected consequences. A hedgehog is a wild animal, and it might be better for him to be free."
Jimmy frowned, his enthusiasm slightly fading.
"But... I just wanted to help."
Anna hugged her brother around the shoulders.
"And it's wonderful that you want to help. But sometimes the best help is to let others be free and choose their own path."
Jimmy pondered her words, fiddling with a blade of grass in his hands.
"Like when you released the butterfly we found with the damaged wing?"
Anna nodded, remembering that incident. They had nursed the injured butterfly for a week, and when it was time to release it, Jimmy was very upset.
"Yes, just like then. Remember how beautifully it flew?"
Jimmy smiled weakly.
"Yes, that was great. Do you think it will be the same with the hedgehog?"
"I'm sure it will," replied Anna. "But you know what? We can leave some food for him here, next to the shelter. Then he can come if he wants, but still remain free."
Jimmy's face brightened.
"Really? What do hedgehogs eat?"
"Let's go inside and check your encyclopedia," suggested Anna, getting up and extending her hand to her brother.
Together they entered the house, where they were greeted by the aroma of freshly baked apple pie. Mom was just taking it out of the oven.
"Mom, can we have some milk for the hedgehog?" asked Jimmy, looking hopefully at his mother.
Priscilla raised an eyebrow in surprise.
"Hedgehog? What hedgehog?"
Anna quickly intervened, knowing how her mother felt about wild animals near the house.
"Jimmy saw a hedgehog in the garden and wants to take care of it a bit. We were just going to read about what they can eat."
Priscilla frowned.
"Just don't think about bringing it into the house. And wash your hands thoroughly after touching anything it might have touched!"
"Of course, Mom," Anna and Jimmy chorused, exchanging knowing glances.
Going up to Jimmy's room, they settled on his bed. Anna took a thick animal encyclopedia from the shelf—a gift from their father for Jimmy's last birthday.
"Let's see... Hedgehogs." Anna flipped through several pages. "Here it is! Listen: 'Hedgehogs are omnivorous animals. In nature, they feed on insects, snails, frogs, lizards, snakes, bird eggs, as well as various fruits and berries.'"
"Wow!" exclaimed Jimmy. "Do we have any of that?"
Anna laughed.
"I don't think Mom would be happy if we started collecting frogs and snakes for the hedgehog. But we can leave him some apples or berries from the garden."
Jimmy nodded, but his gaze suddenly became thoughtful.
"Anna... is it true that hedgehogs are prickly?"
"Yes, they have sharp spines on their backs for protection," answered Anna.
"I guess that's why they don't have many friends," Jimmy said quietly. "After all, no one wants to hug someone so prickly."
Anna looked at her brother carefully. In his words, she detected something more than just musings about hedgehogs.
"You know, Jimmy, sometimes people can seem 'prickly' too. But that doesn't mean they don't deserve love and friendship. You just need to find the right approach."
Jimmy looked up at her.
"Like you with me? Because sometimes I can be... prickly too."
Anna's heart squeezed with tenderness for her brother.
"Oh, Jimmy..." She pulled him close for a hug. "You're the most wonderful little brother in the world. Yes, sometimes you can be stubborn or difficult, but that doesn't change how much I love you."
Jimmy hugged his sister back tightly.
"I love you too, Anna. And I'm glad you're my sister."
They sat like that for a while, enjoying the warmth and closeness of each other. Anna could feel how strongly her brother's heart was beating, and silently vowed to always protect him, no matter what.
Suddenly Jimmy pulled away, his eyes lit up with a new idea.
"Anna, let's make special gloves for handling hedgehogs! So we can pet them without getting pricked!"
Anna laughed at the unexpected suggestion.
"That's a very creative idea, little one. But maybe we should start with something simpler? Like a bird feeder?"
Jimmy thought for a moment, then nodded.
"Okay, let's make a bird feeder. But then we'll definitely work on gloves for hedgehogs!"
"Deal," smiled Anna. "And now, how about going downstairs and trying Mom's apple pie? I'm sure she's saved us each a piece."
Jimmy's eyes lit up at the mention of pie.
"Race you to the kitchen!" he shouted, jumping off the bed and dashing to the door.
Anna shook her head, smiling.
"Hey, that's not fair! You started first!" She ran after him, their laughter echoing through the house.
Going down the stairs, Anna stopped for a moment, watching Jimmy burst into the kitchen where their parents were waiting. The scene was so ordinary, so normal, but somehow it made Anna's heart ache. She suddenly felt a sharp desire to freeze this moment, to preserve it forever.
"Anna, are you coming?" Jimmy called from the kitchen. "Mom said she won't give me your piece, even if I ask!"
Anna smiled, pushing away the strange feeling.
"Coming, coming! Just try to touch my pie, squirt!"
She entered the kitchen, where she was greeted by her family's smiling faces. Looking at them, Anna thought that, despite all the difficulties and disagreements that sometimes arose between them, she was infinitely grateful for this love and warmth. And whatever happened in the future, she would always keep these moments in her heart.
Sunlight streaming through lace curtains filled the d'Ancanto living room with warm light. The air was filled with the aroma of freshly baked cake and cheerful laughter. Anna-Maria, the birthday girl, stood in the middle of the room, her eyes shining with delight and a happy smile playing on her lips.
"Happy birthday, dear!" exclaimed Priscilla, bringing into the room a huge cake decorated with sixteen sparkling candles. Owen followed her, carrying an armful of brightly wrapped presents.
Jimmy, unable to contain his excitement, jumped around his sister.
"Make a wish, Anna-Maria! Make a wish!"
Anna-Maria closed her eyes, feeling her heart overflow with happiness.
"I want this moment to last forever," she thought, preparing to blow out the candles.
The room filled with applause when all sixteen lights were extinguished with one breath. Jimmy clapped enthusiastically, his eyes shining with pride for his older sister.
"Now presents!" announced Owen, handing Anna-Maria a beautifully wrapped box. "This is from Mom and me."
Anna-Maria carefully unwrapped the gift, her fingers trembling with excitement. Inside was an elegant silver pendant in the shape of a star.
"It's beautiful," she breathed, feeling tears of happiness welling up in her eyes.
"Let me help you put it on," offered Priscilla, taking the pendant from her daughter's hands.
Jimmy was bouncing impatiently nearby.
"Now my present! My present!"
Anna-Maria laughed, turning to her brother.
"Of course, little one. What do you have there?"
Jimmy handed her a small package wrapped in bright superhero paper. Anna-Maria carefully unwrapped it, discovering inside a handmade bracelet of colorful beads.
"I made it myself!" Jimmy proudly declared. "Look, there's the letter 'A'—that's you, and 'J'—that's me. Now we'll always be together!"
Anna-Maria's heart melted at this touching gesture.
"Oh, Jimmy, it's beautiful! Thank you so much." She bent down to hug her brother.
The moment their bodies touched, Anna-Maria's world turned upside down with stunning suddenness. Time seemed to slow down, stretching seconds into eternity.
A sudden sharp pain pierced her entire body, starting from her fingertips and spreading like a wave of fire to her very heart. Every nerve, every cell of her being screamed from the unbearable sensation. It was like an electric shock, but a thousand times stronger and deeper.
Anna-Maria felt something—energy? Life force?—flow from Jimmy to her. It was almost tangible, like an invisible current connecting their bodies. She felt this force pouring into her, filling every pore, every particle of her being with foreign memories, emotions—the very essence of Jimmy.
Horror gripped her when she saw her brother's eyes roll back. His pupils dilated, swallowing the iris, and then slowly disappeared under his eyelids. Jimmy's face, a second ago full of life and joy, became pale and lifeless. His body went limp in her arms, becoming heavy and motionless like a rag doll.
"Jimmy!" she screamed, but her voice sounded strange, as if from far away. It was distorted, as if passing through water. Anna-Maria heard her scream, but it seemed alien, not belonging to her.
Owen rushed toward them. "What happened?!"
Without thinking, he grabbed his daughter's arm, trying to understand what had happened, and the same terrifying flow of energy surged from him to Anna-Maria. She jerked her hand away in panic, but it was too late. Owen, always so strong and confident, collapsed to the floor as if cut down.
Priscilla screamed, her voice full of horror and incomprehension.
She rushed to her husband and son, who lay motionless on the floor. Then her gaze darted to Anna-Maria, and it was filled with wild fear.
"What have you done?!" she cried out, taking a step toward her daughter.
"Don't touch me!" Anna screamed in panic, stumbling backward. Her hand accidentally touched Priscilla, pushing her away.
Priscilla flew backward, hitting her head on the edge of the table. The sound of the impact echoed in Anna-Maria's ears. She watched in horror as her mother slowly slumped to the floor, leaving a bloody trail on the wooden surface of the table.
The room, just a minute ago filled with laughter and joy, now plunged into eerie silence. The air, permeated with the aroma of cake, now mixed with the metallic smell and taste of blood.
Anna-Maria stood in the midst of chaos, her gaze fixed on her own hands. The skin seemed normal, but she felt that something had changed. Something terrible had awakened inside her.
"Aaah!" she screamed desperately, piercingly, and her voice was full of horror and shock. The scream echoed through the house, as if mourning a destroyed life. She stood frozen, not knowing for how long.
When Anna-Maria screamed, her piercing cry tore through the silence of the warm evening in Coldwell. In this small town where everyone knew each other, such a sound could not go unnoticed.
Neighbors resting on their porches instantly became alert. The sounds of falling and impact that followed the scream made them act without delay. Without wasting a second, the nearest neighbors rushed to their phones and called for an ambulance.
Thanks to the quick reaction of the neighbors and the fact that St. Mary's Hospital was just a few blocks from their neighborhood, the ambulance arrived at the scene in record time.
When the paramedics burst into the house, their eyes widened with shock at the horrifying scene unfolding before them.
Anna-Maria stood frozen, unable to move. Her mind frantically tried to make sense of what had happened, but each thought brought a new wave of panic.
"My God!" exhaled one of them, rushing to the unconscious people.
Anna-Maria recoiled, pressing herself against the wall. "Don't touch me!" she cried out when another paramedic tried to approach her.
"Calm down," he said softly, raising his hands in a soothing gesture. "We're here to help. What happened?"
But Anna-Maria couldn't answer. The words were stuck in her throat, and she could only helplessly watch as the medics examined her family.
"The boy has no pulse," reported one of the paramedics, working on Jimmy. "Starting resuscitation."
"The man is in a coma, but stable," replied another, checking Owen's condition. "The woman received a severe blow to the head—possibly a concussion."
Anna-Maria listened to their clipped phrases, feeling each word pierce her heart like a knife. She had done this. She had hurt her family.
Soon the police arrived. The officers suspiciously surveyed the room, their gazes repeatedly returning to Anna-Maria.
"What happened here?" one of them asked, addressing the paramedics.
"Still unclear," the medic answered. "Looks like some kind of accident. The girl is in shock; we couldn't get any information from her."
The officer nodded and turned to Anna-Maria. "Can you tell us what happened?"
Anna-Maria opened her mouth but couldn't utter a sound. How could she explain what she herself didn't understand?
"All right, take your time," said the officer, seeing her condition. "We'll talk later. Right now, you need to go to the hospital for an examination."
"No!" exclaimed Anna-Maria, finding her voice for the first time. "I can't... I don't want to hurt anyone else!"
The officers exchanged glances, clearly puzzled by her words.
"Nobody will get hurt," one of them assured her. "We just want to make sure you're okay."
But Anna-Maria knew that nothing would ever be okay again. Never.
The next few hours passed as if in a fog. Anna-Maria was taken to the hospital, where doctors and nurses, dressed in protective suits and gloves due to the unknown nature of the incident, examined her, finding no physical injuries. They talked about shock and trauma, but Anna-Maria barely heard them. Her thoughts were with her family.
All the medical staff kept their distance, avoiding direct contact with the girl's skin. This precaution, initially taken due to the unclear situation, proved to be life-saving, though no one yet understood the true nature of her abilities.
Late at night, she was allowed to return home accompanied by a social worker, who was also instructed to avoid physical contact. The house seemed foreign and cold. Anna-Maria went up to her room, feeling like a ghost in her own life.
She didn't sleep all night, sitting on her bed and looking out the window. What was she now? A monster? A murderer? How could she continue living, knowing she could kill with a single touch?
Morning came gray and damp, as if reflecting the state of her soul. Anna-Maria heard noise downstairs and, cautiously peering out the window, saw a crowd of reporters at the entrance to the house. Their cameras were aimed at the door, like predators waiting for prey.
Suddenly the crowd stirred. Anna-Maria saw a taxi pull up, from which her mother, Priscilla, emerged. She looked exhausted, with a bandage on her head, but held herself upright, ignoring the shouts of reporters.
"Mrs. d'Ancanto! Is it true that your daughter is a mutant?" "How do you explain what happened in your house?" "How do you feel knowing that your daughter killed your son?"
Each question was like a knife to Anna-Maria's heart. She recoiled from the window, unable to bear hearing more.
Downstairs, the front door slammed. Anna-Maria heard her mother's heavy footsteps on the stairs. Her heart beat faster with fear and anticipation.
The door to the room slowly opened. Priscilla stood on the threshold, her face pale and drawn. For several long seconds, they just looked at each other.
"Mom..." Anna-Maria finally whispered, feeling tears well up in her eyes.
Priscilla took a step into the room but stopped at a safe distance. Her gaze was a mixture of pain, fear, and something else... Disgust?
"Why?" she asked quietly, but there was so much pain in that single word that Anna-Maria felt her heart breaking.
"I didn't mean to," she replied, her voice trembling. "Mom, I swear—I didn't know this would happen. I would never..."
"Your brother is dead," Priscilla interrupted her, her voice cold as ice. "Your father is in a coma. The doctors don't know if he'll ever wake up."
Each word was like a blow. Anna-Maria felt the world around her crumbling.
"Mom, please!" she begged, taking a step forward. "I didn't want to hurt them. I love you all!"
But Priscilla flinched, raising her hand in a protective gesture. "Don't come near me!"
Anna-Maria froze, struck by the fear in her mother's eyes. Fear of her.
"What are you?" Priscilla whispered, and these words hit Anna-Maria harder than any physical blow.
"I... I don't know," she answered, feeling tears stream down her cheeks. "Mom, I'm the same person. I'm still your daughter..."
But Priscilla shook her head. "My daughter could not have done such a thing. You... you're a monster."
These words hung in the air, heavy and inevitable. Anna-Maria felt something inside her finally break.
"I think you should leave," Priscilla said after a long pause. "I can't... I can't look at you and not see..."
She didn't finish the phrase, but there was no need. Anna-Maria saw everything in her eyes—pain, fear, disgust.
"Where should I go?" asked Anna-Maria, feeling lost and alone like never before.
"I don't care," Priscilla replied, turning away. "Just go. And don't come back."
With these words, she left the room, leaving Anna-Maria alone in silence, broken only by the sounds of her own sobbing.
Anna-Maria didn't know how much time had passed before she could move, like a marionette with cut strings. Her hands mechanically folded clothes, each movement—senseless, automatic. The air hung heavy with the smell of fear and despair, mixed with the medical scent that had permeated the house after the paramedics' visit. Her fingers, pale and trembling, clung to the fabric, as if trying to hold on to the remnants of her former life.
Anna-Maria's gaze was empty, her eyes glassy, unseeing. She packed things into her backpack indiscriminately—t-shirts mixed with books, socks next to framed photographs. One of the frames cracked, a shard of glass piercing her finger, but she didn't even notice. Blood dripped onto clothes, leaving brownish stains—a physical manifestation of inner pain.
Having finished packing, Anna-Maria stood motionless in the middle of the room. Her gaze wandered across the walls, not focusing on anything specific. Posters of favorite bands, photos of friends—all this now seemed foreign, belonging to another life, another girl. One who didn't kill with a touch.
The heavy backpack pressed on her shoulders as Anna-Maria descended the stairs. Each step creaked under her weight, as if the house was groaning in pain. From the kitchen came her mother's muffled voice—she was talking on the phone, her words interrupted by sobs. Anna-Maria froze for a second, listening, but her mother's words were like knife blows to her heart.
The front door yielded with difficulty, as if trying to keep her inside. Bright sunlight hit her eyes, making Anna-Maria squint. The contrast between the bright day and the darkness of her soul was almost physically painful.
The reporters pounced on her like a pack of hungry wolves. Camera flashes hit her eyes, questions merged into a cacophony of sounds. Anna-Maria walked forward, seeing nothing in front of her. Her body moved on its own, making its way through the crowd. Someone's hands grabbed at her clothes, microphones poked at her face.
"Anna-Maria, is it true that you killed your brother?" "How do you explain your abilities?" "What do you feel right now?"
The questions hit her ears but didn't reach her consciousness. Anna-Maria continued walking, not knowing where. Her legs carried her forward, away from home, away from the past that now seemed like a distant dream.
The streets of Coldwell, once so familiar and cozy, now seemed foreign and hostile. People turned around, recognizing her from the news. Whispers followed her like a poisonous trail.
"It's her, that mutant girl." "They say she killed her brother with a single touch." "Stay away from her—who knows what she's capable of."
Anna-Maria walked, oblivious to time and distance. The sun slowly moved toward sunset, coloring the sky in blood-red hues. Her legs ached with fatigue, her mouth dry, but she continued walking, like a robot following a programmed routine.
Suddenly, a familiar smell of gasoline and fried potatoes hit her nose. Anna-Maria blinked, focusing her gaze for the first time in many hours. Before her was a gas station—the very one where they often stopped with her father during trips.
Memories flooded in like a wave, breaking through the dam of shock. Here's her father filling the car, smiling and winking at her through the window. Here she is running into the small shop, choosing sweets. Here they are sitting on the hood, munching chips and chatting about nothing.
Reality crashed down on Anna-Maria with deafening force. Her knees buckled, and she collapsed onto the asphalt. The pain from the impact mixed with emotional agony, and a cry escaped her chest—animalistic, full of pain and despair.
Tears poured in a torrent, blurring the world around her. Anna-Maria sobbed, her whole body shaking. Her cries echoed off the concrete walls of the gas station, creating an eerie cacophony of pain.
"Mom! Dad! Jimmy!" she cried, as if hoping that if she shouted loud enough, they would hear and everything would be as before.
People at the gas station froze, not knowing what to do. Someone recognized her; whispers were heard, camera clicks from phones. But Anna-Maria didn't care. The world narrowed to this moment, to this pain tearing her apart from the inside.
Suddenly, someone's hand rested on her shoulder. The touch was soft, almost tender. For a second, Anna-Maria thought it was her mother who had come for her, that everything had just been a horrible dream.
"Mom?" she whispered, raising her tear-stained face.
But it wasn't her mother. In front of her, crouching, was a woman with blue skin and bright red hair. Her yellow eyes looked with understanding and sympathy.
"No, dear, I'm not your mother," the woman said gently. "My name is Raven, but you can call me Mystique."
Anna-Maria recoiled, fear mixing with surprise. But Mystique didn't move, continuing to look at her with warmth.
"I know what you're going through right now," Mystique continued. "I was like that too—scared, lonely, not understanding what was happening to me."
Her words penetrated through the veil of pain and despair. Anna-Maria felt something inside her respond to these words and understanding.
"You're not alone, Anna-Maria." Mystique extended her hand. "I can help you. Teach you to control your abilities, show you that being a mutant is a gift, not a curse."
Anna-Maria hesitated. Part of her wanted to run away, hide from the whole world. But another part, the one that craved understanding and acceptance, was drawn to this strange woman.
"I... I don't know," whispered Anna-Maria. "I..." Her voice faltered, and she felt a lump rise in her throat. The tears she had been holding back for so long finally broke through. "I... I killed him," she forced out through her sobs. "Jimmy... my little brother. I just hugged him, and he..." She couldn't finish the sentence, choking on tears. Then she took a deep, shaky breath, trying to continue. "And then Dad... He tried to help, and I... I didn't want to, I swear, I didn't know..." Her words were interrupted by sobs. "He fell... and didn't get up. The doctors say he's in a coma." She raised her eyes to Mystique, her eyes full of pain and despair. "I'm a monster. I can't touch people without hurting them. How can I go on living, knowing this?"
Sobs overtook her again, and Anna-Maria covered her face with her hands, her shoulders shaking from grief and guilt. All the horror of what had happened, which she had been trying to suppress for so long, finally broke out, leaving her empty and defenseless in front of this stranger with blue skin.
"You're not a monster, dear," Mystique said softly, carefully approaching Anna-Maria. "What happened is a terrible tragedy, but it doesn't define you."
Anna-Maria raised her tear-stained face, her gaze full of disbelief and hope at the same time.
Mystique shook her head. "You're not dangerous—you just don't know how to control your power. But I can teach you. Give me a chance to help you."
Anna-Maria froze, her heart racing wildly. For the first time since that terrible day, someone was offering her not judgment or fear, but understanding and help. She looked at Mystique's outstretched hand. At this moment, she stood at a crossroads—return to the world that had rejected her, or step into the unknown with someone who promised a new beginning.
With a trembling breath, Anna-Maria reached out and placed her hand in Mystique's palm. She noticed with surprise that Mystique's hands were covered in thin, almost invisible gloves—bluish, matching her skin. This touch, so simple and yet so significant, became a symbol of a new path.
"You know about my... ability?" Anna-Maria quietly asked, suddenly realizing that Mystique must have heard the news about what happened.
Mystique nodded, her yellow eyes glowing with understanding. "I heard the news and I can guess that your power is related to touch. Don't worry, we'll learn to deal with this."
"Okay," whispered Anna-Maria, her voice hoarse from tears. "Teach me."
Mystique gently squeezed her hand, and Anna-Maria felt hope flicker in her heart for the first time in a long while.
Mystique smiled, and in her eyes flashed something resembling triumph, but Anna-Maria was too exhausted to notice it. The blue-skinned woman gently helped her to her feet.
"Come, dear," said Mystique, her voice full of promise. "A new chapter of your life is beginning."
They slowly moved away from the gas station. Anna-Maria felt people's eyes on her, heard whispers behind her back, and saw the flashing lights of approaching police cars. But she didn't look back. Each step took her further from the past, from the life she had known.
Anna-Maria understood that she was leaving behind not only the place of tragedy but herself as well. Anna-Maria d'Ancanto, beloved daughter and sister, an ordinary girl with ordinary dreams, remained in the past.