Peep of Light

Chapter Six

Camilla's POV

Amy and I stood in the bathroom, brushing our teeth as if we'd not just narrowly escaped death. Strands of my wet hair clung to my skin like a vice. Had it not been for the man who struck down the last assailant, I might have ended up in the hospital.

I looked at myself from the mirror, my eyes were the exact replica of my father's monolid ones, resembling crescents when we smiled. My skin tone leaned more toward my mother's Latina complexion, while my twin brother inherited my father's alabaster skin color. I was grateful for one thing, though—the flawless skin that came with being Asian. I had learned the secrets of skincare early on.

My toothbrush still rested against my lips, though my grip on it had become shaky. I could see my mother's face reflected in my own, and all I longed for was to be wrapped in her embrace. I shook my head as a hiccup caught in my throat. Finishing up, I walked out of the bathroom, leaving Amy behind.

"Pizza?" Amy asked, leaning against the doorframe, her phone in hand. I nodded in her direction and settled myself on the couch, attempting to appear occupied with my own phone, as if I had a bustling social life. The hollow charade stung my chest, and I dropped the device as if it had burned my fingers.

The cream and white aesthetic of the living space was precisely as Amy and I had envisioned it. Everything had been perfect, until the night I lost my family—Amy included.

Three years had passed since that fateful night, and by now, I should have moved forward. Yet, here I was, trapped in the past, clinging to the memories of my loved ones. Over those three years, I had made no progress in my own life. I refused to work, relying solely on income from the stock market. The house remained untouched, a preserved time capsule of the life they had left behind, and my own life had spiraled even further into stagnation.

"Camilla, I'm sorry," Amy whispered, her voice trembling as she reached out to touch my arm. I glanced at the throw pillow resting on my thighs, its colors carefully chosen by me. I was torn between holding onto my grudge and granting her the forgiveness she sought. Maybe I could understand her dilemma—if our roles were reversed, what would my reaction have been? If my life were threatened and the price of survival meant betraying our friendship, would I have acted selfishly?

My mind reeled from these thoughts, overwhelmed by the events that had unfolded. She seemed genuinely remorseful, I considered. But the truth was, the moment she stood by my side to fight those men, I had already forgiven her.

She was the only family I had left. According to Mama Wang, my mother, families forgive each other.

"Do you want to watch Merlin?" I observed the initial confusion in her hazel eyes before a glimmer of understanding spread across her face, her smile as endearing as it had been ten years ago.

She wrapped her arms around me, burying her face in my neck as she began to cry. I felt my own tears spill forth, soaking into her hair as I tightened my embrace. For the first time in a long, long time, I felt truly at home.

"I'm sorry, Mia," she sniffed, lifting her face to meet my gaze. Her eyes searched mine, perhaps seeking any hint of resentment. Yet, my soul felt too empty to harbor hatred—the only person who had ever earned that spot was the man who had ruined my life with his mere existence—that bastard.

"Where's your MacBook?" I asked, scanning the living room for any sign of it. She gave my hand a gentle squeeze before standing up to retrieve it from her bedroom. In that moment, I realized this reunion was what my soul had yearned for, as a sense of clarity washed over me. I may not have been happy just yet, but my mind was finally clear.

"Does he still bother you?" Amy inquired as she emerged from her room, clutching her MacBook to her chest. Her eyes held a hint of hesitation, as if she feared the truth.

She hurried over to the couch, setting the MacBook on the table before turning to me with an expectant gaze. Her hands clenched and unclenched on my arms, betraying her growing anxiety.

"Unfortunately," I sighed, observing the crestfallen expression that washed over her face. Fresh tears welled up in her already red-rimmed eyes, and she sniffled, hastily wiping them away before reaching for the MacBook once more.

"We'll kill him," she declared with unwavering resolve, her gaze fixed on me as if the decision had been made and nothing could deter her. Despite the three gruesome years of betrayal and hurt, I found solace in the return of my best friend.

"Pizza's here," she announced, moving swiftly to the door. She dropped the box on the round table and made her way to the kitchen to retrieve her indispensable companion—a soda.

"You know, for a gym instructor," I began, observing her as she skipped back to the couch, "you have a bad habit." I nodded toward the soda she now clutched like a lifeline, highlighting her incongruous attachment to the sugary drink.

"Says the lazy bum," she retorted, rolling her eyes. "I bet you don't even do your dishes." A laugh erupted from my belly as I threw my head back, tears streaming down my face. My sides ached from the intensity of my laughter.

"Come on," she whispered, starting the series. She handed me my slice and began to devour hers, her cheeks puffing out like a rabbit's. Slowly, I let my head lean onto her shoulder, pretending not to notice the intimacy. I felt her body tense momentarily before she relaxed, a nearly inaudible giggle escaping her lips.

That was the realest laugh I had in years.

Enjoy👋