That secret box weighs too much

"Why does she have a pic with Mitch? I understood that he killed mom because the tensions have been clear as day. But Aurora? And you never told me, Brian Black, even though you were the first person implicated? Your other half is murdered and I, losing me head, never got to know why? Why? Why, Brian, why? It's just killing me, and somehow I don't want to hear your answer. Because I was the assassin's daughter, right? Even after everything we've been through, you didn't trust me enough!"

"If you could shut up for once I would have told you that I never knew!"

I sighed. Somehow, my eyes and my mouth popped wide open and he shut them, giggling.

"Stop thinking it's all about you. That's what made Aurora say things in times she shouldn't have. We probably should learn from her right now, not leave her angry in her grave."

"I need to know that holy thing with Aurora."

"I'm starting to believe this isn't worth it. Let' go home, Cece. She's dead trying to find out something, maybe, and he told us enough to make us improve. Let's resume our lives. Please." His eyes are glowing, begging for the torture to end.

And that's so fine. Because that's all I want as well.

I try to forget. Everything. For us. For that future. For the lives that could be lost if I dare Mitch to that overthinking game. So we light up fires and grill marshmellows and sausages. We dissect topics teens love : college, game, food, couple matching gossip. I tell him that I want to pursue graphic design. The downside is that my legacy is all I have to pay my fees. He said I could easily get a scholarship with my GPA. That hella 5.0 that literally came out of nowhere.

Well, maybe. But I'll be alone. Just facetiming Bry and Suzy from time to time. And coming to The League every now and then to help. Because I can't forge myself a job based on uncertainties and stacks of odds, right?

But what if I wanted The League to be something more? Stronger? It seems to me we're working on a microscopic scale now, and that's not what I want. We should be able to spot the red flags more frequently than this, stop those mistakes before they blow lives away.

"I'm not ready to give up on The League. Not now. We should anticipate more."

"Anticipate what? How can we trust your pulsions after what he said?"

"What he said meant that we should not only trust mine, but everyone's. Don't you get it?"

"We don't have the resources, Cecilia! Nor the budget, the gadgets, the staff or the time to take up false alarms!"

"And what if what you thought was true, false? And what you thought to be false, ended up true? We should be open to alternative methods, or else no moving-forward will occur for The League. We'll stay that same small group of people forever, while we want to be saviors, right?"

"We do, but we can't listen to anything anyone dreams about, every nightmare, daydream or panic attack. We trusted you because you had features, and that's it."

"I understand, but nothing ever proved that having hyper blood speed makes you anticipate stuff. I think it was a lie someone made us believe."

"What if I told you Mitch was the first to introduce the concept? Would you be any more relieved?"

"No! He could be leading us on even now! The problem is I'm not buying this blood speed theory. It was probably just to make them believe him, and now he's announcing to me that it's everyone's superpower! Aren't you convinced now that the imposter himself gave up on his masquerade?"

"I need to process this. Now shouldn't we go to sleep? We'll talk more tomorrow, right?"

"Sure."

Something in me wanted to sift through Aurora's room. Any piece of evidence might very well be hidden there. On my tippy toes, I climbed the stairs and almost knocked on the door before realizing no one was there, holding back one tear or two. I entered with a respectful silence and a slow pace; as though trying to keep that subtle, fragile, universe from falling. I found Rupi Kaur's 'Milk And Honey' open on the navy blue desk. In a page that said :

"you leave

but you don't stay gone

why do you do that

why do you

abandon the thing you want to keep

in a place you do not want to stay

why do you you think it's ok to do both

go and return all at once

- rupi kaur"

I was astonished. Was this a coincidence? Did she know she was leaving or was I making up scenarios in my head as per usual?

I raised my eyes and glanced on her wall and the post-its pinned to it. My heart was racing but it had almost certainly nothing to do with my "powers". A gasp had escaped my mouth so loudly that I worried people would know where I was investigating.

Too many cards. One driven message hanging between the lines.

"The choice is already made,

I'm afraid[...]

-Ernest Lord Eremite"

"Be gentle with me,

for my heart hides

so many wounds

that never bleed.

-Alexandra Vasiliu"

"I am sick

to my soul

With a disease

Called

Thought.

-David Jones."

What was that? Did she end her life? My dad never denied killing her...

The thoughts were dancing in my head like a group of flies hovering around a dead body. I ran as fast and hard as I could to Brian's room and broke in without knocking. The noise woke him up and he looked at me with such a baffled, out of breath expression, that made me feel guilty for waking him up at some sleepy hour of the night. I swallowed my saliva.

"What's going on? Cecilia I-"

"I know you were asleep. Sorry. Just, come with me, please. I'm literally begging you."

We walked through the corridors on the tip of our toes again, and when he realized I was leading him to Aurora's room, he gave me a bliding glare that almost shot me to the ground.

"Why?"

"Just get in." We got in front of her blue desk. "Look at the walls. Look at that."

"What's about it?"

"She wanted to die."

"Why are you jumping to conclusions?"

"It doesn't click to me."

"Well, what doesn't click to me is that you accuse my sister of killing herself. At least let her memory away from that filth."

"I'm not trying to throw dirt on anyone. All I know is it's strange. Dad never denied killing her, and indeed he walked down our street when we were doing the same, but, how could he have killed her in what wasn't even a second? And why kill her? And most importantly, why did she keep that picture of him? This is too entangled for my liking, to not be leading to something. "

"Quantum information is always entangled, but it doesn't mean there's a mistery to solve."

"Actually, it does. And the gloomy part is, apparently, if I don't slove this head-scratcher, no one will. You don't seem very enthusiastic to figure it out, right? Know that when we love someone, we should set them free by getting the truth, and not try to keep them picture-perfect in our heads just to not get our expectations down and so that we feel good and unhurt all the time. That's not love. That's being extremely selfish. When you love, you care, you exhaust yourself."

"Ain't it easier to preach, Cecilia? Why don't you find out why your father killed your mother? Leave unwanted memories where they are!"

"Well, no. Because I have a premonition Aurora died for an ideal that was killing her. My dad told her something, that's for sure and certain. And I need to know that thing. "

"Why? To die, Cecilia?" The amount of raw fear I perceived in his eyes almost ended me. Those deep blue eyes that he hides under amber lens most of the time.

"No. To save people. To grow out of our ashes, can't you see ? Can't you see how far we are from that utopic vision I had of us, of the world we live in? But somehow did we make it greater? The League is not moving and we are not sending any sunlight into anyone's life? Could it get worse than losing both your parents in one way on another, losing your best friend, and finding out that your life purpose hasn't developed into a full-blown mission?"

"So I'm not your best friend?"

"No, You're my lover."

He smiled.

"That won't make us investigate in the middle of the night, though. Go to sleep. We'll talk it through at the sunrise."

What was almost a straight no turned into an almost maybe. Victory tastes sometimes better than a good night's sleep.