Falling With Grace

Elias cleared his throat, settling back in his seat, wrists on the edge of the table. His gaze traced a fiery path across my flesh as if daring me to reveal the atrocities he had forced upon me.

My stomach growled with hunger, the acid churning away at whatever remnants lingered from my last meal.

“Not much to tell, really.” I raised my fork, taking a bite of food, and chewed.

“Where in America are you from?” Nadia dabbed the corner of her mouth with a napkin, then placed it on her lap, her manicured nails tapping the table with aclick.

Three years had passed since I last witnessed the city’s vibrant details, yet they lingered in my mind like a familiar couch, molding itself to my memories. “Chicago.” I exhaled, letting the city’s name escape my lips.

“You’re a long way from home. How did you end up in Mexico?”

Elias reclined in his seat, his grasp enclosing the handle of the coffee cup within his broad hand.

“I was brought here.”

I continued to eat while Nadia indulged in her mimosa, taking occasional sips.

Looks like orange juice to me.

Rosa leaned in and grabbed another scoop of food.

“By your family? Where are your parents?”

Blood.

Glass.

Darkness.

My fork clattered onto the plate, adrenaline plunging my heart into the dark abyss of my stomach. “I’d rather—”

Elias stood, extending his hand to Nadia. “We’re going to be late.”

“Whatever you do, don’t pick white.” Rosa turned her cup with her fingertips.

“Why not?” Nadia stood, her fingertips brushing her chest.

“Because white is traditional. We’re anything but.”

I toyed with my fork, nudging the tortilla strips around the plate, a red heat slapping my cheeks, my gaze pinned to my plate.

“We can change that.”

“No…” Rosa shook her head and crossed her arms over her chest. “You can’t. Not when you go whoring yourself around.”

“Mamá—”

Nadia gasped, her cheeks aflame in a scarlet hue matching the intensity of my burn. “Why would you say something like that?”

Elias and Nadia’s voice rose over one another. My brows rose to my hairline, and my lips pressed tight together as I hung my head.

Please stop.

Did this stem from her Alzheimer’s, or did she harbor animosity towards Nadia?

When Carly talked about her grandpa’s Alzheimer’s, she described his increasing aggression and worsening hurtful remarks as the disease progressed. In the end, he reached a stage where he stopped speaking, eating, and moving on his own.

“Mamá.” Elias walked around the table and assisted Rosa in standing as I placed my fork on the table, my appetite waning. “Maybe you should rest or practice your puzzle.”