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Lana’s eyes trace the contours of Mia’s dorm room. The winter sun seeping through the half-closed blinds is enough to make out the empty bed and the person at the desk. Mia. Her face buried in a pile of paper.
Lana sighs. Because what else is she supposed to do? She wants to scream at Mia to rest. She wants to take her in her arms. She wants to hold her hand and make her understand this has to stop. But instead, she walks over to the desk without a sound, tiptoeing across the room like she’s intruding, like she’s not Mia’s girlfriend, like she hasn’t been in this room so many times.
As Lana catches Mia’s sleeping face, her heart is caught between love and frustration. There is something so reassuring in seeing the beautiful face smoothed from lines and worries. There is something so infuriating in the way Mia’s head lies on papers instead of a fluffy pillow.
Lana reaches out, her fingers brushing against Mia’s cheek.
“Mia,” she whispers.
Her eyelids flutter, and for a moment, she thinks he’ll wake. But then he burrows deeper into the paperwork, mumbling incoherent words. Lana leans down, her lips brushing against Mia’s temple.
“Wake up.”
“Mmh,” Mia says as she stirs. “Oh god, my neck…”
“Are you alright?”
Mia shivers and grabs the comforter that slipped from her shoulders, “Yes… it’s cold in here… why is it so cold?”
“It’s not particularly cold,” Lana says, dropping her hand on Mia’s forehead and tucking away a loose strand of hair when she realizes Mia is not warm. From the raspy voice, she would have bet on it. “Did you fall asleep here?”
“I guess so…” Mia says, rubbing her eyes. Even half asleep, Mia covers the papers on her desk so that Lana can’t see what it is. It defeats the purpose. If Mia’s hiding those papers, Lana knows it can only be one thing.
Mia blinks at Lana, confusion warring with exhaustion.
“Wait, what time is it?” Mia asks.
“Your sister’s train is leaving in an hour.”
“An hour? Oh god… Maya! Wake up, we’re goi—”
Mia turns towards the bed. The empty, empty bed. And her face crumples entirely.
“Where is…— Have you seen her?”
“I haven’t. I was worried because I didn’t see you two at breakfast, so I came here, but…— you don’t know where she is either.”
“You haven’t seen her at all? Has anyone seen her? Did she have breakfast?”
“I don’t…— Mia, slow down!”
Mia trips over the legs of her chair and just nearly catches herself against the desk. The look on her tired face is that of utter panic.
“Mia, calm down.”
“I need to find her! She’s supposed to take the train and! Where is she? What if anything has happened?”
“Mia, breathe.”
“My little sister is missing, my sister is missing, oh my god I lost her! Do I have to tell Morgan?””
“She can’t be far,” Lana says. “We’ll find her.”
“Why is she not here? We’re not even supposed to have visitors in the dorm! What if she gets into trouble?”
Lana wants to point out Mia might get into trouble for sneaking her sister inside the dorm, but she refrains. Clearly, that won’t help.
“Don’t worry about that. We’ll find Maya. Breathe. In and out. I swear to you everything will be much clearer after you calm down.”
Mia does. Barely. Lana and she set out to find the missing little girl. They search their dorm, round up a few roommates to help looking for Maya, and soon Mia stops panicking. She gets into crisis mode and focuses on the task at hand with clinical focus.
Lana knows it’ll take one wrong move to set her off. Mia might act strong, but when it comes to her family, she’s a double-edged sword.
“Why were you sleeping at your desk?” Lana asks.
Mia stands back up from looking under the common room’s couch. Faint echoes of yelled Maya s can be heard.
“I was just… working on something.”
“On something,” Lana said. “I thought you had cleared your schedule for your sister’s visit.”
Mia goes quiet, then, probably prompted by hearing another string of their dormmates shouting her sister’s name, looking for Maya, she turns to Lana and explains.
“I was looking for leads. On my mother’s disappearance.”
Mia pulls the curtains and looks in every nook and cranny despite knowing fully well a child Maya’s size couldn’t fit in those hiding places.
“I have to find our mother. I have to. If I can’t be home, I need… I need someone with Maya, taking care of her.”
“Isn’t your aunt—” Lana starts and she regrets it the moment Mia cuts her off, turning towards her with that look on her face that means she’s about to chew you,
“She clearly isn’t!” Mia cries out. She drops on the couch in defeat but Lana doesn’t dare getting too close. She stands on her side of the common room, staring at her girlfriend like she’s a wild beast that shouldn’t be approached.
“Maya’s wearing clothes three sizes too small. She’s wearing sandals that don’t fit. I… I’m afraid I didn’t make the right decision.”
Lana can’t take it. She closes the distance and sits on the coffee table in front of the couch, taking Mia’s hands in hers. Mia looks up long enough to grant Lana the shadow of a smile before she sighs heavily.
“I left Maya in our aunt’s care, but Morgan, she… I don’t think she really cares. I should have known… she never cared about me, but I was older and she never really liked me so… but I thought she wouldn’t let Maya…” Mia drops her hand in her hands. “I was wrong… god, I was so wrong. I never should have left. I have to find our mother.”
Lana can’t say she hadn’t guessed. When Mia came clear about her origins and opened up about her mother’s disappearance and the reasons why she was pursuing a degree in law, Lana had felt quite helpless. Lana and Mia had similar stories. Both older sisters who had to step up. Both lost their parents quite young. But the clear difference is on how Lana has let go of her previous life, and Mia is still holding onto the last flimsy thread like it’s her lifeline. Lana has never known how to deal with it. Mia is stuck between a rock and a hard place: either she let go of her mother and lost her drive, or she kept looking for her and let the search consume her. And in the middle of this, there’s just a young adult trying to navigate this new world.
Lana runs her thumb across Mia’s hand and says as gently as she can, “Mia, I know you want to believe, but your mother left years ago. I’m sorry, but I... I think you should stop looking for her. It’s taking so much out of you.”
“I only fell asleep,” Mia says, standing up and dropping Lana’s hand in the process. “It’s not the end of the world!”
“You fell asleep at your desk,” Lana points out and she hates how defensive she gets— she doesn’t want to argue, not today, not anyday, but especially not when Mia’s sister is missing. She doesn’t want to.
And yet.
“You were having trouble breathing earlier,” Lana points out. “You’ve been researching everything related to your mother or that case from years ago, do you think I haven’t noticed? You’re always late to class. You’re on edge. You hardly ever sleep. This search is taking your whole life away. I know it’s hard to let go, but you can’t grieve if you hold onto her.”
“As long as she’s alive, there’s a possibility I might see her again. And if there’s a possibility, then I can’t give up. Why can’t you understand that?”
“Because it’s hurting you!” Lana cries out.
“Of course, it hurts! My mother left me and I can’t find my sister! ” Mia retorts, screaming back, which is rare enough for Lana’s breath to catch. Mia takes a breath, and passes her hand down her face. This is the closest Lana has ever seen Mia to start crying of exhaustion. Mia sighs, and her voice breaks when she asks, “Can you please help me look for Maya?”
Lana looks down and combs her hand through her hair, “I’m sorry. You’re right… your sister is missing. I should… I’m sorry.”
“Just… help me. Please. I need you.”
“I know,” Lana says. She doesn’t dare putting her hand on Mia’s shoulder. She doesn’t want to risk it. That’s telling, but Lana doesn’t dwell on that thought. “Let’s ask the girls if they’ve seen her.”
They eventually find Maya as she’s hiding in the caretaker’s shack. Mia runs desperately to her sister, falling to the ground to hug her tight. Maya looks confused. She doesn’t hug her sister back. Lana stares at Maya and all she sees in the girl’s eyes is pure confusion.
“You’re okay,” Mia says. She plants kisses on her sister’s cheek, on her forehead, on the top of her head— everywhere. “You’re alright…”
“I don’t want to go,” Maya says.
Mia doesn’t reply. She holds her tighter.
“Mia? It’s time,” Lana says as gently as she can and it still feels like uttering the harshest words in the world. And maybe those are the hardest words. How do you ask someone you love to let go of someone they love? How do you dare?
Mia doesn’t reply. Lana is about to land her hand on her shoulder when Mia wipes her silent tears, lets go of Maya and cups her sister’s cheek, forcing a smile.
“I don’t want to go home…” Maya says.
Something breaks. And Lana is utterly disarmed.
Mia holds the side of her sister’s shoulders tighter. Lana can tell Mia doesn’t want her to go either. She can’t stop holding her.
But no matter how much they pretend, they all know they’ll have to go their separate ways.
“Aunt Morgan is waiting for you,” Mia says. The lie made Mia age a hundred years.
Maya shrugs and looks down. She’s got tears in her eyes and Lana can’t help but see Ema at the same age.
“Listen,” Mia says. She wipes her sister’s tear and forces a smile. “I’ll always be here for you. Always. You can come back here any time you like. But for now, you have to go home to our aunt. Alright?”
Maya reluctantly nods.
“Let’s go?” Mia asks softly.
Maya shrugs once more but follows her sister when she leads her outside.
*
Mia knocks on Lana’s door late that night. She stands apologetically in the corridor, and Lana swears she’s never been more torn about hearing those two words. You’re right. They reach for each other. The is hug tighter than they’re ever been. Lana runs her fingers through Mia’s hair and holds on until Mia lets go.
Hand in hand, they head out.
*
The ceremony they hold for Misty Fey’s unofficial funerals is private. It’s only Mia and Lana, hiding behind the gymnasium, with some cheap flowers and incense. Mia is holding a photograph, a newspaper clipping of her mother’s mugshot. When Lana asked if she didn’t have a better photograph, Mia said she only had this one. It made Lana feel helplessly sad.
Mia takes a deep breath and arranges a makeshift resting place. Kurain tradition has most of their resident cremated unless specifically asked otherwise. They say it helps to purify the soul before departing. Mia admitted she’s not sure she’d want to be cremated, but buried sounds like a worse option. Lana never gave it much thought. Her parents were buried. She figured she’d do the same. She feels like crying over a tombstone is colder than crying while holding an urn— but the urn feels too personal.
Lana knows she’d never let go of the ashes.
Mia takes a deep breath. Her mother’s mugshot is in a dustbin, matches in her hand. Lana knows fully well Mia is not letting go— she’s pretending. And Lana is pretending too. It’s a pretend-funeral, after all, only symbolic, and no one believes in it. Lana wonders briefly if it defeats the purpose, but she doesn’t have to wonder long. She knows it does.
Mia lights the match, throws it in the bin and takes a few steps back. Her hand finds Lana’s. It’s cold, freezing cold outside and their coats barely bring enough warmth.
“Seven years,” Mia says. “I still… can’t believe it’s been so long. Maya was just a baby and now… she’s turning 10 next month.”
“Time is unreal,” Lana says. She can still remember her parents’ death anniversaries, and how each year, it became harder and harder to understand what had been lost.
Mia nods. The flames dance in her eyes, but Lana knows she’s not looking at them. Her gaze is fixed in memories of a woman who is long gone, but she has refused to let go of.
“We’re fine,” Mia says. “I love you, and we’ll both be fine.”
Lana smiles. Oh, how she wants to believe it’s true. That they won’t have to go their separate ways. That they can go on pretending forever. That they’ll have everything and more. Lana wants to believe. Oh, has Mia rubbed off on her already?
You can have different beliefs. You can be there for someone whose only wish is to kill themselves chasing a ghost. And Lana will. She ignores all the flags, quiets down all the alarms. This isn’t going to work, her head tells her. I’ll make it work, she snaps back fiercely.
Lana takes Mia in her arms, slowly, carefully, and she holds her tight. She smells her hair, makes sure she remembers this moment. She will want to remember this moment. No matter what.
“We’ll be fine.”