Luna on the Run (The Carmsborough Vigilantes #1)

Chapter 14

I remember the day I found out about Mom's cancer.

My day at school had been good. More than good, actually. I was excited to share the news with her. She was going to be so proud of me for how well I did. How well we did. After all, we'd spent the night working on the project together, finishing all the little details that made it perfect.

The walk back to the apartment was serene. Peaceful. Birds were singing their harmonious tunes, breathing life into the cobblestone landscape of inner-city Carmsborough. People young and old were sitting on the cement steps of their houses and apartments, singing, playing, knitting. Living.

A tune was stuck in my head. It was one of Giraffe's most popular hits of the year, which the radio on our counter at home played nonstop. It became the ambience music of my trip home.

It was a Tuesday. I only remember that because my last class of the day was gym class, and we'd had a fun round of four-corner dodgeball that ended with the bell. I wouldn't normally participate, but something was in the air—the spring air, which whistled through the stone alleys and along the tall buildings. Trees were in full bloom, their green hues as dark as ever. Bursting white clouds blanketed the sky, contrasting against the deep blue signature of the time of year. A cloudship here and there soared by.

I had a little hop to my step as I climbed the stairs of my apartment complex all the way to the fourth floor. They were tall and creaky, having been made before standardization, but I never minded. It was a healthy workout for my trip home.

I opened the door to our apartment and made my presence known. Though she was usually at work, Mom had some sort of appointment with her doctor that day, which meant a much-needed break was in store for her. I entered the living room and spotted her on the couch, using our coffee table as a desk to write on a piece of paper. Not paying her much attention, I moved to the kitchen to dig out an afternoon snack.

"You're never gonna believe it, Mom, but we got the highest score on the project of the entire class. Mrs. Westernight was impressed. Thanks for staying up all night to work with me on it. You really didn't have to."

I snagged an apple from our fruit bowl and turned to our small pantry for dinner ideas. "Had fun in gym today, too. We played more dodgeball, and I did as good as usual. But I tried today, and honestly, that's asking a lot. We also read Of Mice and Men in English, which wasn't as great, but next week we're beginning our poetry unit."

Mom hadn't responded to any of my conversation, so I assumed whatever she was writing had something to do with work. It seemed like every couple of days she would bring her suitcase home and work until bedtime.

I grabbed a few chunky potatoes from the sack in the pantry, made sure they were bud-less, and set them on the counter to hunt for our main course of the night.

"Whatcha workin' on, Mom? Your boss trying to get you to work on your day off, too?" I picked up my apple and took another bite. Finally, she looked at me, tears flowing down her cheeks. Her bottom lip quivered in the same way it always does when her heart's been shattered.

I remember assuming she was thinking about Dad again. I was too young to remember him leaving us. It was in this same apartment that Mom discovered he had left us to go to the United States. Occasionally, something would trigger a thought or memory, and on especially emotional days, there was no stopping her floodgates from opening.

"What's wrong, Mom?"

She beckoned me over with both arms, tilting her head to the floor. I sat beside her, and she wrapped her arms around me tightly. I remained motionless. Whatever it was, she would get it out of her system soon, and in half an hour we would be laughing and eating our dinner of mashed potatoes and... well, something else.