Chapter 28: Surviving

Priscilla’s POV

“Pass me the butter, please,” Tanner asked as the pilot on the stovetop zapped to life. I pushed over the butter dish, leaning against the kitchen island. Oriana turned on some music, bumping Tanner’s hip playfully as she buttered up some bread.

I knew that they were in charge of making me feel better and they were doing a really great job. Keeping me out of my head, reminding me of everything that happened. I leaned back, watching Ori and Tanner dance along to the music, reminding me of mi mama used to cook large meals.

We would dance and sing loudly while we kneaded masa, slapped together some tortillas, flinging them onto the flame. Simple times. Back when I felt like I had a family.

It felt different now, but I had grown fond of them. A new family.