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Amity grew attached to Camila Noceda from the first time they met.
She loved her smile, and her laugh, and how she had always made everyone feel welcome no matter who they are (even Boscha). She loved basically anything she cooked, and the way she spoke—firm, but gentle, in a motherly way. In conclusion, if she could be Camila’s daughter, she would. No, scratch that, Amity would sell her soul to the demons if it meant she could be Camila’s daughter.
Ever since the portal recovered and Luz kept traveling between both worlds for school and home, Amity went with her. She would spend as long as she could in Luz’s home, doing homework or magic practice or whatever she could get her hands on. Not that she could spent more time with Luz, she could spend more time around Camila, too—it was a win-win. And for a while, life was… bearable.
Until winter hits both worlds, and she was stuck inside her own home for the longest time in her life. She still could call Luz through her scroll and read books with her, but it just felt so different. She wanted to come over, to help Camila and Eda bake bread and cookies in the kitchen. To dress King up, to hear laughter all over the place. Not be in this big, cold, empty mansion, with nobody in it but her twin siblings and the spiders building their webs in the corner.
And then of course, the seasonal flu had to come, too.
Edric and Emira took care of her most of the time, but even they didn’t know how to cure a flu—and both of them being in her room and bickering over her made her headache even worse, so she made them leave. Only then it was Emira who tried her best in being a big sister to her, making sure she eats and that her temperature doesn’t get too high. They were trying her best, Amity knows—but she couldn’t help to want a mother. An actual mother, not a sibling pretending to be one. She wanted… Camila. And Edalyn, taking care of her as if she was Luz, as if she was one of their daughters, too.
A plan began to form in Amity’s mind—an irrational, stupid plan, but it just might work. She’s going to sneak out of the house from the back door so that Emira and Edric wouldn’t know, and then go to the Owl House and into the portal, to Luz’s home. How she’s going to do that with a burning fever and not being able to breathe through her nose, she doesn’t know—but it was worth a try anyway.
I just wanted a mother, Amity had thought. And I deserved one. A real one, who actually cares about me.
Yeah. That’s right. She does deserve one.
So that night, she packed her bags and got ready while Emira and Edric were… somewhere, in the house, doing who knows what. She felt a bit terrible for leaving secretly, but it wasn’t going to be a big deal, anyway. She’ll just message them that she went to Luz’s house after. Besides, Emira and Edric always had each other, though they may seem reluctant about it. Amity doesn’t. She was born alone, and she was probably going to die alone too—she just didn’t want to spend her life alone.
Amity crept through the back door, her body wrapped up in layers of jackets and scarves to face the snow, her bag hanging off her shoulder. She must’ve looked silly, she admits, but nobody was outside, anyway—not with the snowstorm and how hard it was to walk around with the thick snow on the ground. Her pants were already soaked wet with melting snow just half the way through, and her nose felt even more stuffed due to the cold weather. It was very uncomfortable, and it felt like she might pass out any time from the throbbing in her head, but she had to keep going.
When she arrived at the Owl House, it was empty. Well, almost—Hooty lets her in, since he couldn’t really go anywhere. He had told her that Lillith was also somewhere in the house, too, and Amity prays to the gods that she doesn’t run into her on the way to the portal (apparently Eda trusts her now? She isn’t really caught up with all the Owl House drama, but she was sure Hooty would gladly tell her all about it some other time).
She sneaks quietly into Luz’s room, to where the portal is, teeth chattering from the cold. God, she couldn’t wait to be in the Noceda household, warm and content with Luz on her side while her nose was stuffed with the fresh smell of baked goods. A house that’s alive and filled with chatters, not a mansion that’s empty and cold. She’d give anything to stay there forever.
But of course she couldn’t. Right?
Amity sighs, setting dropping herself to the floor. Of course she couldn’t. What was she thinking? It was messed up, relying on another family to take care of her. What if they don’t want her? What if she’s an unwanted guest, a stranger? She can’t just come over unannounced like this. She was nobody to them—they weren’t obliged to take her in. And she didn’t want to be a burden to anyone but herself.
That’s right. She couldn’t go there. She couldn’t.
Amity leans her head against the wall, curling on the floor. She’ll have to head back to the mansion, she knows, but for now, she could just lay down here. There’s a strong, throbbing pain in her head as if someone’s beating it with a hammer, and she couldn’t breathe through her nose anymore. She closes her eyes shut instead, willing it to go away while little bits tears squeezed out of her eyes.
So, this is where she ended up—cold and miserable and alone on the floor, fevered out of her mind and able to do absolutely nothing at all.
She probably deserved this.
When Amity woke up again, she wasn’t dead.
She didn’t know what she was expecting, really—but whatever it was, it’s definitely not being carried in Edalyn Clawthorne’s arms while the woman rushes her… somewhere.
She wanted to speak, but her throat stings, and it felt like someone had stuffed her nose with bags of sand. Her head was heavy and she rolls it over to the side, hoping to at least make out what was going on around her. She couldn’t.
“Hey, kid,” Eda says with a low voice when she noticed that Amity was awake. “Just keep your eyes closed. We’re almost there.”
Where? She wanted to ask, but she did what the woman had told her to for her own sake. She could hear a door slam open, and someone dropping something onto the ground.
“Eda? Who’s th—Amity?”
“Where’s your mother, Luz, I need her now—”
“What’s going on? What happened? How did you—”
“—No questions, please,” Eda says firmly, setting her down on something warm and soft. “Go get her. Now.”
“Okay, okay,” she heard her footsteps leave, and her body relaxes a bit. God, this is fucking embarrassing—she didn’t know how she could ever face Luz after this. Not now that she’s seen her half-conscious and weak.
Eda strips her wet clothes off, leaving her only in her sweater and almost-dried leggings. There’s another series of rushed footsteps, and the door slams open again—can they stop doing that? “What’s going on, Edalyn—is that… is that Amity?”
“I found her on Luz’s bedroom floor in the Owl House—kid’s running a solid fever. I thought she was dying.” The woman says in a monotone voice, as if nothing could surprise her ever again from now on. “She probably is.”
A cold hand pressed against her forehead, then her cheeks. “Shit. You’re right—can you get me the med kit in the bathroom? It’s on the shelf.”
“Right, I’m on it.”
Camila’s fingers ran along her hair, smoothing it out and brushing it away from her face, and she felt like she might cry all over again. She couldn’t, though, not now—not when she’s supposed to act unconscious to save herself from the humiliation.
“I’ve got it,” Eda announced, setting a bag down on the carpet. “What are you going to do with her? Human stuff?”
“I mean, I hope it’ll help,” Camila says, sighing. “Why was she in the Owl House in the middle of a snowstorm, anyway? Don’t she have parents? Where are they?”
Silence. Amity didn’t dare to open her eyes, but she could feel them secretly having an unspoken conversation about her. It only embarrassed her even more, knowing that there’s always going to be pity when they looked at her from now on—that was what usually happens.
“Right… alright, then.” She heard the woman took a deep breath beside her. “I, uh—can you go replace me in the kitchen for a bit? The stove is still on, I think. I’ll stay here and take care of her.”
“Yeah, I can do that.” And with that, Eda walked out the door, leaving them alone in the room.
There’s a few rustling, and then a hand tapping on her arm, trying to wake her up. “Amity, mija, can you wake up for me?” her voice asks softly. “I need to take your temperature. It’ll only be for a second, I promise.”
Amity did what she was told, opening her eyes slowly. The light in the room made her head throb even harder for a second, but then there was Camila, with her warm smile, holding out the thermometer in one hand. “There you are. Open your mouth, love. It’s not going to hurt.”
Her lips felt like it’s going to crack if she opens them too wide. The woman slid the thermometer below her tongue, caressing her cheek with her thumb while they waited. She tried to close her eyes again, hoping to fall asleep, but then the thermometer beeps loudly, and she jolts back awake in surprise.
“No, no it’s okay, sweetheart,” Camila shushes her, removing the device out of her mouth and winces at the result. “Yeah, that’s a pretty solid fever you’ve got there, Amity.”
“I’m sorry,” she rasps, for a lot of reason in particular.
The woman frowns. “No, mija, what are you sorry for?”
“Because… I didn’t—didn’t mean to… disturb you. I was going to go home.” Amity tries to explain, but her voice wouldn’t cooperate with her. Her words morphs into a whisper, and her throat felt like sandpaper.
“Amity, you know there’s always a place for you here,” Camila tells her, taking a bottle of pills from the bag and pops it open. “Besides, you’re sick as a dog. If I knew sooner that your parents were a bunch of pendejos, I would personally drag you here and make you stay.”
Amity laughs at that, which results on a string of painful coughs, Camila patting her shoulder as she took deep breaths to calm her lungs down.
“Here. Drink this, then get some rest,” she handed her a blue pill from the bottle and a glass of water. “You’ll be okay, mija.”
“Thank you,” Amity nods, swallowing the water like her life depended on it—which it might. “I think I’ll sleep for a while.”
“Good,” Camila spreads a blanket over her and covers her shoulder. “I’ll be around if you need me, okay?”
“Okay.” She nodded again. “And uh—can I… ask you something?”
The woman turns back at her. “Yeah, sure, anything.”
“What does mija means?”
Her expression softens, an expression Amity knew too well. It was the same expression she has when she looks at Luz smiling or laughing or doing anything at all—an expression she uses to look at her daughter. “Mija means… well, it comes from the words mi hija, which means ‘my daughter’ in Spanish.” She explained. “It’s a nickname Spanish people use for daughter.”
Amity thought about it for a while. Mija. My daughter. She smiles to herself.
Turns out, she didn’t need to sell her soul to the demons for that after all.