You Better Bring an Umbrella, Vol. 1

Chapter 2: A Bitter Homecoming

I pulled my car into the small space out front, lingering inside even after I'd turned the vehicle off. I knew, at the very least, that Luther was in there, which meant I'd have to face him. Sure, I wasn't as black-listed as the girl who wrote a whole expose on the family, but I left without saying goodbye to everyone. Luther and Allison both said the group would understand, but... they weren't speaking for everyone.

        "C'mon, Mina," I whispered. "Just get out of the car and go."

        When my eyes moved to the door, I flinched and snapped my gaze back down to my petrified hands. The place I had once called home shouldn't cause me such great internal conflict, but the memories that likely still roamed around inside didn't exactly make this homecoming feel welcoming.

        Somehow, I mustered the mental energy to step out onto the road and make my way up to the door. I hesitated there, in front of the large glass and wood partitions between me and the source of tragedy. I debated, for a solid couple of minutes, whether I should knock or just go in. It was strange to see the Academy from this side, given that leaving was forbidden for most of our lives. Stepping out into the world and attempting to make lives for ourselves had been challenging, testing all of us in ways that proved who were the strongest siblings, and who was meant to fall.

        The door creaked loudly in protest as I opened it, indicating no one had taken care of it in quite a while. I suppose when Dad got up in his years, all of Mom's attention went to taking care of him, rather than maintaining the upkeep of the house. Cleaning this place had always been a near-impossible task, and often took multiple days; too many trinkets sat on random tables and shelves that served no other purpose, the three floors held expansive, twisting hallways that just branched off into another set of rooms, and Dad would never trust any of us to clean it. It always went to Mom, who had to bear the task on her own.

        I hadn't expected to feel a wave of relief as I shut the door behind me. It came mixed with nostalgia as I stared at the grand staircase, remembering all the times the seven of us had raced up and down, trying to test who was the fastest. I'd never won, especially as the years went on, but being able to spend time with my siblings was enough back then. There had been tensions and rivalries, sure, but it wasn't until we grew older that genuine bitterness and hatred set in alongside the trauma, creating heavy divides that eventually pushed us all apart. I couldn't imagine what we would all say to each other, after all these years. We could only keep tabs on the famous ones, the others never bothered to reach out to anyone else. Some of us got hit with the blunt end of our childhood harder than others, and had virtually dropped off the face of the Earth. Did they even know? Would they be here?

        Sighing, I made my way into the common room, where some of us would sit and read, or talk to each other. The antique couches were somehow still filled with life, and the bar was fully stocked. Best to keep some people away from there.

        "Mina?"

        I jumped, throwing an arm out in the direction of the noise in an attempt to strike the source. They immediately caught me by my wrist and shot me an unamused glare. I slowly relaxed, trying to push down an embarrassed blush as I looked at my brother for the first time in years.

        "Oh, Jesus. Sorry, Diego-- reflex." He chuckled, looking down and releasing my arm.

        "What a way to greet your brother." I scoffed, reaching out to hug him.

        "Shut up. I'm happy to see you." We squeezed each other a bit, then I pushed back and stared at his choice in outfit, one of my brows flying up. "That's, uh... that's certainly a choice."