Sophie leaned back into the bus seat as Denise spilled her story. “It all began when I was five. My mom, or as I learned recently, fake mom, and I used to visit the cemetery, because her dad had just died. Whenever we drove home, I used to see glowing spirits following the car, but my mom would never believe me.” Denise abruptly shook her head, pausing for the longest moment. “I can’t,” she uttered.
“It’s alright. Keep going.” Sophie tried to gently encourage her. If they were going to get along, Sophie needed to fully understand Denise.
Denise sighed. “Okay. Just a week or so ago, my dad and I were hiking through a nature preserve, and we were attacked. Before we were, my dad told me that the mom that had raised me, wasn’t my real mom. She had been my step mom. We were attacked by werewolves in the woods, and before my dad…” She cleared her throat for a minute. “Died, he told me to find Caldecott Tunnel, since that’s where my real mom told him to tell me to go. You know what, this seems crazy now. When I say it all aloud, I can’t believe myself.”
Sophie nodded. She always had the same feeling when she thought about her mom, and her life at the moment. Living at a camp where the kids were children of the Greek gods. It got unbelievable sometimes. “I know how you feel.”
“No.” Denise’s voice raised. “My step mom loved me, and she thinks my dad’s still alive, and she thinks I ran away. She’s still waiting for me to come back. She thinks I’m her real daughter.” Tears slipped out of her eyes, and soon enough, Denise was bawling.
Sophie felt herself beginning to tear up. Laughter was contagious, but so was sadness. “I know. I really do. You think you have no family, that you’re alone, but you’re not. You’re not.”
Denise looked up at her, her eyes puffy and red. “Listen, let’s forget we talked about this. I need to finish a drawing.” And with that, Denise turned towards the window, took out a pencil and sketchbook, and faced the paper away from Sophie’s view as she drew.
Sophie sighed, giving up on getting to know Denise. She took out a project and began working.

Denise felt a wet spot on her page. Startled, she instantly touched her cheek. It was damp from the salty tears. She tried to shake it off, and continued to draw, glancing at Sophie once in a while. I’ll show her later, she thought to herself, or never.
Once she finished, she signed her name in the bottom left corner with a flourish. Then, she glanced out the window at the rolling landscape, until the bus began to violently jostle.

Notes

Aw...this chapter was a little teary. Oh well. Happy new year.