LIGHT AND SHADOW: UNTIL DARKNESS DO US APART

Running into me was no coincidence, our stars were meant to cross that way.

*AMAYA'S P.O.V*

If looks could kill, Maria Jacobs would be on a bloody ride to hell.

"What do you mean retrench me?" I ask walking as quickly as I can to the next aisle since Maria wouldn't stop walking so quickly in those pencil-tip heels.

Everywhere was scented of a mixture of flower essence which normally brightened up my day but now it makes me want to vomit just like the first day I got in here. The whole flower shop was full of weeds and dying flowers, it smelt like herbs till I helped Maria out. I'm not saying she owes me her life but she knew how much I needed this job.

My debts are overboard and I'm tired of asking Andria for money all the time even though she's willing to help. Sales have been fluctuating lately and it isn't because of excessive staff it's only me and Maria. We used to be three but Ryan quit last week for some reason.

"Niña."She spoke in Spanish, something she does when she's angry or not happy. Maria was from Spain. She moved here twelve years ago in the hopes of meeting her Discord lover who turned out to be a fraudster.

He disappointed her and took all her money then fled the country. Maria had nowhere to live but then she saw this place, it was old and rotting then. After two years of grieving, Maria finally got up and decided to start a business. Hardin gave her the capital; he's a very good friend of Maria who I think has a crush on her.

"Maria," I call out and she finally stops walking. I sigh in relief and walk in front of her.

My anger suddenly vanished when I saw the look on her face. To me, Maria would always be like my mother. She treats me like her daughter although she's forty and I'm twenty-three.

"Amaya," her Spanish accent was always so vibrant and alluring. "cariño I'm sorry I can't have you work here, los clientes están quejándose."I didn't understand what she meant but I was certain it wasn't something good.

"What do you mean Maria?" I ask in concern and I place a hand on her shoulder.

"Your identity is bringing bad sales."My heart raced. I slid my hands off her shoulder instinctively."Thanks a lot, Maria," I say and I begin to walk away.

"I could say you quit-" I closed the shop door before she could complete her statement. Well, curse my luck!

The second I left the flower shop, the cold rain fell heavily on me. I heard a loud thunderclap that nearly ripped off my eardrums. I didn't even notice it was going to rain soon. I told my hands around my chest. Maybe I shouldn't have worn a white shirt today.

Home is a two-hour walk from here and I wasn't planning on hitching a ride, I never do. No one was ever willing to take me in in the first place. Maybe if this was one of those romance movies Andria always watches, some guy would show up and offer me an umbrella. Oh, grow up Amaya! Even though fairy tales do exist I'd probably be one of Cinderella's unfortunate sisters.

Maria's shop was close to Beverly Hills. I always enjoyed coming out during my break and looking ahead at Beverly Hills. The place looked ethereal, I would always see ladies dressed so lavishly, they dress the same weight as a bucket of gold. Sometimes they would be with their husbands or boyfriends who were in no way close to being poor. They drove the most exotic cars which I've ever seen in Compton. It's not that I want to stay there, I rather stay in Compton all my life because I know, Beverly Hills isn't a place for people like me. Empty and forgotten.

I spot someone dressed in all black standing on the lonely side of the road staring at me. My eyes widen and thunder claps fiercely enough for bile to rise in my throat. I saw a little girl with her father and there was a group of men surrounding them. The girl looked scared to death. Her father pleaded to the men to spare his daughter. One of them brought out a large pistol and-

I could swear in a moment, I died and came back to life as I made contact with something hard and warm, my hand on the person's wrist. The person was wearing a thick brown coat that looked expensive and smelled like vanilla which oddly calmed my nerves. I was panting heavily as I withdrew from the person. I looked in the direction of where I saw the man but no one was there. I was shaking terribly. It was the same figure. The person who-

"Are-"Before the man in front of me could say anything, I walked away. My heels were aching and I knew I had sores nevertheless, I began to run. Tears poured out of my eyes. Mum and Dad, I promised to be strong. I can't anymore. I can't.

"You can't always pretend to be strong all the time." I always told my mother that. Ever since Dad died, nothing was ever the same. She barely spoke, she was like the living dead. I always prayed for her to cry because she'd always sit down and stare in one direction with no emotions. She eventually died, and I had nothing left to live for. I tried to commit suicide but Andria came to my rescue. Somehow I wish she had been a second late.

* *

Taking off my wet dress, I throw it across my room and it hangs on my window. I lived in a one-room condominium that Andria paid for. She offered to pay for everything including my grocery and utility bills but I rejected it, now I owe so much and I have no job.

I walk into the bathroom and I brush my teeth so hard my gums bled but the pain wasn't compared to the pain I felt when Maria, the woman I saw as a mother, retrenched me. I look at myself in the mirror, gray eyes staring back at me. Nothing about me seemed right, I was full white American but I had African hair. None of my parents were African, none of my ancestors were. It was so full I had no idea what to do with it. I tried cutting it but I ended up nearly chopping my fingers off. Andria said I was unique and I shouldn't cut it off.

I tap the wall with my fingers as I wait for the bathtub to fill with cold water. When it was filled, I entered ignoring the fact it was nearly three degrees cold. I rest my head on the edge of the bathtub and I close my eyes.

Vanilla.

That particular scent was so familiar? I recall crashing into the stranger dressed in a thick brown coat. My eyes open and I gasp.

I didn't apologize. Amaya, what have you done? My phone rings from on top of my dressing table where I placed it. I smile a bit at the song that plays. Runaway. Andria's favorite song. I get out of the bathtub wrapping a towel around my body.

I take my phone and it's Andria.

"Hello! Amaya, are you okay? I heard you got fired. I'm so sorry. Amaya?" I smile a bit.

"I'm fine," I say.

"That's what you always say when you aren't fine." She whines and I walk out of the bathroom and to my room.

" I'm fine... Andria."

"Better." She says exasperatedly and I chuckle. "I gave Maria a haughty call and she cried like a goddamn baby over the phone."

My eyes widen as I sit on my bed.

"You shouldn't have Andria. It wasn't her fault." I say matter-of-factly.

"Really Amaya? She fired you, we both know you are the only reason that rust bucket has been booming, and just because one stupid person told the world about your past doesn't justify anything." She says.

I press my fingers in my temples.

"I would have done the same." I bite my lips trying to control my tears.

"That's a lie and you know it. Amaya doesn't listen to those people, we both know the truth. You have me and that's all that matters and don't tell me you are crying." She talks like a detective because she's been watching too many criminal minds lately. I chuckle and tears flow down my cheek.

"Not really."I laugh and so does she.

"How the heck did you know?"

"I'm like a second you Amaya."She gasps dramatically and I laugh harder. She always knows how to make me feel better.

"I've gotta get back to work now but I promise I'll stop by." She said and I nodded like she could see me.

"Goodbye,"

"No crying except when you are watching Titanic." She says and I could guess she's pointing warningly.

"Okay," I chuckle lightly. "bye."

As I dried my tears, I noticed a piece of paper and envelope on my bedside table. I hadn't seen it before, and I was certain I hadn't left it there. I picked it up, and my heart raced as I read the message scrawled in red ink

"July second 2012. Remember?" The envelope fell to the ground as I mistakenly hit the table in fear. Fear grips me and I look at the pictures that fell out of it.

The picture showed two babies wrapped in a blanket on the streets and a woman lay dead next to them. I gasp when I read the writing on the picture.

"I know who murdered your parents."