Chasing Ghosts | Natasha Romanoff

Chapter 113: Teenage Dream

June 11, 2028

Natasha

Summer break was off to a great start.

Not.

It was warm outside, perfect for going out and having fun, maybe taking a dive in a pool somewhere. But Maya was on her period—a bad one—and was in a mood, snapping at everything Natasha asked her. Luckily, she only came out of her room to get food.

Katya wasn't having a particularly good day either. It wasn't anxiety or depression this time, but grief. A while ago, she managed to track down the exact date her mother was murdered, and today was that day. It hit her harder than expected. She asked for some time alone and had locked herself in her room as well.

It left Natasha, who weirdly felt like a guardian of sorts, choosing to sit in the living room with the patio doors open instead of outside, just in case anyone needed her. She didn't mind. Summer was long, and the breeze blowing inside gave her all the serotonin too. It gave her time to finish yet another book. It had quickly become her favorite way to unwind.

In the silence, above the rustling of leaves on the trees, she heard the car pull up on the driveway long before Brooklyn stepped into the house. They'd entrusted her with a spare key, serious about the whole ''you're always welcome here, at any time'', and Natasha was happy to see her do exactly that. Today, she could really use some help.

"Hi, Lyn."

The blonde had a tote bag over her shoulder, a contagious smile on her lips, and mismatching socks on her feet. "Hi. How are you?"

She'd gotten comfortable around Natasha and Katya. Less nervous babbling, more joyful smiles and enthusiasm. She'd integrated into the family without trouble, joining game nights and trips to the amusement park.

Natasha liked having her around, she brought even more life into an already lively house. But the most important thing; she treated Maya amazingly.

"Good. You?"

"Great, thank you." Brooklyn bounced impatiently on her toes. "I come bearing hugs."

Natasha smiled amusedly, turning a page of her book. "She needs them. Has been grumpy all day."

Brooklyn's smile faded into a grimace. "How bad is it?"

"Did you bring any food?" The girl lifted her bag as an answer. Natasha chuckled, she already knew Maya well. "I'd lead with that."

With a sigh, Brooklyn stepped towards the stairs. ''Wish me luck.''

Natasha looked back at her book. ''Scream if you need help.''

There was no screaming. Brooklyn didn't come down after five minutes, not after half an hour, and not even after an hour. The clock had turned to one PM by then, and Natasha hadn't seen a soul since her daughter-in-law—a joke Maya didn't appreciate much—disappeared upstairs.

Part of her wondered if Maya had smothered her girlfriend, but the only two people in this house with murderous tendencies were her and Katya, who she hadn't heard of either.

No news was good news, Natasha decided.

Still, she had to disturb them, because her stomach started to rumble. And if hers did, theirs must be too, and it was her job to take care of her family today.

Sliding a bookmark between the pages of her novel, Natasha went upstairs. A TV played in one of the rooms, swelling music followed by people talking—a show of some sorts. Carefully, she knocked on Maya's door, like she was about to poke a sleeping bear.