Could I say that rain had an awful habit of appearing when shit went left? Right as Jun parked his car beside our father's Mustang, thunder roared in the sky and raindrops quickly followed. Normally, as would any person, I would have pulled my sweater over my head to keep it as dry as possible. This time I let it hit me. Drop after drop slapped against my skin as I walked up the walkway and onto my parents' front porch. I was soaked in seconds but wanted the water to calm me down.

Something needed to.

"Mom!" Jun called out for our mother when we stepped into the living room. He wanted me to step in front of him because shutting the door behind me. But once he did, he quickly moved around the couch and into the kitchen.

I followed after him, just not as quickly. I kept thinking of the look on Brian's face. A sort of regret. Yes, he hadn't backed down from fighting Mario, but Mario had been the one to start it. Mario threw the first stone. Brian only caught it, then threw it back. Just... when Jun came and the jokes and teasing hit another way, Brian made sure Jun wouldn't have been the one fighting. Brian knew firsthand how bad rash initial reactions could be.

He protected my brother from that mistake.

"Ma..." Jun's voice dropped, sad, almost apologetic. As I stepped into the kitchen after him, I saw my mother sitting at the table. My father was next to her. There was a small stack of plates next to his arm, as if he had been planning to take them to the living room. But judging by the looks on their faces, Jun had already asked a question.

Had I been so far in my head that I didn't hear him?

Jun pressed both of his hands against the table and took in the deepest breath. "Ma..." He turned his head. "Dad... I just." He paused. "Mario said something tonight, just a bit ago, that hit me."

My father's hand slid over his face before landing on the table. He cleared his throat. "Mijo, Mario can say a lot of things, but—"

"But what he said, no one knows about it." Jun straightened, balling his hands into fists at his side. "They know about the break-in—"

"Jun, don't." My mother waved her hand as if she didn't want to hear him. "Please, not now. Not today. Today we're supposed to—"

"Talk, right?" Jun huffed. As I stepped into the kitchen and stood beside him, I could hear the grumbling in his breaths. I looked at him, but he didn't pay me attention. His attention had shifted towards our father. "So, I want to talk. I need to talk about what he said."

"If it's about what Mario said, then no." My father leaned back against his seat. "Your mother wanted you both here to talk about other things. More important things concerning this family."

"Really?" The disbelief in Jun's voice resonated within me. And I fed off of it.

"Brian's in jail tonight." I pulled at my wet sleeves as I wrapped my arms across my chest. "He made sure Jun didn't fight Mario tonight and took the fall."

"In jail?" My mother's brow shot up. Her gaze danced around the room at all of us. "But why?"

You know why.

"Because Mario said something, ma." Jun took this moment to finally look at me. His lips were pursed, tongue pressed into his cheek. When he sighed, he stepped to the side and pushed out the chair for me to sit in. I accepted because I was cold, I was wet, and I needed to know what was raid tonight.

"Her father killed your father."

What does that mean?

When Jun's hand landed on my shoulder with a soft squeeze, I looked at our parents. I saw the confusion and sadness on their faces. My mother looked at my father with such shock, it hurt me, too.

I bit my lip as my mother motioned for Jun to take the other chair beside me. He did without hesitation. With his hands folded, he asked his question. "That night when Kay and I were kids, when mom got attacked, no one knew what really happened, right?"

My mother covered her mouth. My father closed his eyes.

Jun's next question made both of their eyes open wide. Had it been the first he asked when he came into the kitchen? The question I hadn't heard?

"Did you kill my father?"

"Mijo," my father pressed his hand to my chest, "I'm your father."

"Okay." Licking his lips, Jun nodded. "But I don't look like you or ma, right? I don't look like anyone."

I saw the tears in the corner of my mother's eyes. They glistened, making them red and glossed over. Both of her hands covered her mouth.

"Okay, look," Jun looked down at his hands as his thumbs moved in a small circle around each other, "everyone knows it happened. There are no real secrets in Harmony. But no one knows what really happened, right? But the guy who came in here when we were kids, you killed him."

My eyes widened. Had my father killed him? I was too young to know all of the details, and I remember there had been an attack. I thought my father had just scared him away; my father scared him away and kept us from harm.

Closing my eyes, I thought back to that night. I was small and of course, just like I was an adult, I refused to listen and didn't stay in bed. I'd been in Jun's room because he would read comic books to me until I fell asleep. And I could've slept in there, too; he had ba ean bag chair that was just for me.

But my mom screamed. And dishes broke.

I remembered hiding under Jun's blankets. I remembered my father rushing downstairs, yelling, and cursing. After that was a blur.

When I opened my eyes again, I saw the hurt on both of my parents' faces. The tears that were in the corner of my mother's eyes finally fell, sliding down her brown cheeks. Her hands pressed up against her forehead as she slumped forward. And my father... he cupped his mouth, nose balanced on his fingers as he took in sharp breaths. He couldn't look at either me or Jun. He kept his focus elsewhere.

Are you looking at the flowers, pa?

"But no one knew you killed him, right?" Jun drummed his fingers. The tone of his voice hurt as much as the expression on my parents' faces. It rang with pain, with confusion. The tightness I felt in my chest was the same—what the hell is going on? What does Mario know?

"Jun..." my father breathed.

Jun cleared his throat. "No one knew he died here. They just thought he left, right? It was our secret. To protect you, to protect mom, to protect—"

"And how was I supposed to protect you all with that kind of secret!" My father slammed his hand on the table. All of us jumped. "I killed a man in here, yes, but I needed someone to protect me from my crime. That's why Mario stays around because—"

"He's the sheriff's son, I know," Jun hissed. "I get that. But what I don't get is why you aren't answering my question."

"You didn't ask one," my father said.

My father was right, and wrong. Jun had asked questions. A few, actually. They left him after each huff, after each sniff; he wanted the answers to that awful night in our past.

But the real question wasn't one I heard yet. The truth of who that man was. Had he just broken in? Had he just been a criminal up to no good, looking for the random house on the street?

Or—

"I did ask," Jun said. "Right when I walked in, I asked."

The question I didn't hear.

My mother had to stand up. She pushed away from the table and turned around towards the stove. The food they had been preparing to serve was left uncovered, probably cold, so she covered them. One by one she lifted the lids to save the dinner we were supposed to have. But when she stopped at the third pot, the biggest one, to lean against the counter and cry, I stood, too.

I went over to my mother's side. I rubbed her shoulders. She turned against me and pressed her face against my wet sleeve. Despite the rain, she didn't care. She needed me; I had to give her the tightest hug.

"Andres," she whispered as she wrapped her arms around me, "just tell him."

"No," my father growled.

"Tell him before Mario does."

Around us, the room stood still. No one spoke. I swore no one breathed, either; I didn't. I kept my arms around my mother and held her tight. I felt the water from my sleeves soak through her black shirt and for a second, I regretted it. But when she grabbed back and hid her face in my shoulder, I knew I shouldn't care.

What I cared about then was my family, this secret, and my brother. It was bad enough that Brian had to go to jail to prevent this fight, and enough that Mario obviously kept it under his sleeve as blackmail, as ammo.

My father leaned back against his seat. I glanced at him as he stretched his arms out at his sides, fingers sliding across the wooden surface. "When I met your mother, she was pregnant. With you, Jun," he said. "Your mother was wonderful, is wonderful, beautiful, and everything I could ever dream of. Her secret didn't bother me. If the man who got her pregnant could just leave her, I couldn't. I needed to be there for her, for you."

With a sidestep, I tried to face my father. My mother moved with me, too, and pulled away. Her hand dropped to mine, our fingers linked. She gripped me so tight as he spoke.

"I told your mother I would take care of her because I loved her. That her baby," my father pointed at Jun, "that you would be my child regardless. I wouldn't abandon her like that other man did. I'd never do that."

Jun's bottom lip was between his teeth. His eyes were red, rimmed with tears. His fingers had stopped twiddling but he didn't move them; just two fists clenched together, bound with emotion. "So, you—"

"I am your father. I gave you my name because I loved you the minute I saw you. You're Andres junior. You are my son." The way my father said those words, it was filled with so much love and yet so much pain. Their relationship was hard, turbulent, and at times exhausting, but Jun had never questioned him like this.

But how could he? Neither of us knew the truth.

"We were happy, yes. Everything was great. You were born, then Kadijah," my father turned and looked at me, "you were, you are mi corazon, nena. Both of you."

"That man had no right to come back," my mother whispered through her tears. "He did not."

"So, the man who came back," Jun pressed back against his seat, "was my father?"

"He... biologically, yes." My father lowered his head. "He found out where we lived, but he didn't come to see you. He came for money and said we owed him. Said—"

"Said I owed him my life." With tears sliding down her face, my mother shook her head. "I put him away, that's how he abandoned me. He was in jail for beating me, for using drugs, for..."

Everything clicked.

My parents were always paranoid about drugs, abuse, and scary men they didn't know. Because my mother had been with one, got pregnant by one. When I left for the city, she called every day and left so many voicemails pleading with me, begging me to come back to Harmony, where it was small and safe.

"He tried killing your mother and I stopped him, but I couldn't let him leave, either." My father looked up, inhaling sharply. "I knew if I got rid of him, he would never come back. And we would be safe."

"And the sheriff kept your secret?" Jun sighed. "That's why you keep Mario around? To keep the sheriff happy?"

"Jun," my father shook his head, "Mario was never supposed to know about what happened that night. Mario stayed here because..." When my father looked back at me, the hurt in his eyes made me shake my head. He said, "He stayed because he loved you, nena. He said he wanted to make up for his mistakes."

"Mistakes?" I bit my lip. Squeezing my mother's hand, I said, "The man you killed, what mom just said, that's Mario. I just didn't stay long enough for it to get to that point, you know that, right?"

My father lowered his gaze.

My mother squeezed back.

The realization hit. Mario was a reflection of the man who fathered Jun, and I had been like my mother, almost following in her footsteps. Only I managed to leave before it got that bad. But the way Mario kept calling, texting, and showing up at my parents' house, I wondered if it ever would be that bad. Would he show up in five years? Ten? Would he demand my attention?

Placing my hand on my stomach, I let out a shaky breath. I couldn't let that happen.

"I killed that man to protect my family." My father lowered his head. His voice dropped, "The sheriff was helping me protect my family..."

"Pa." Letting go of my mother's hand, I approached my father and sat in the chair beside him. When he looked at me, I reached out and grabbed his hand. "Brian took the fall to protect his family," I said, my hand on my stomach. "Our family. He couldn't let Jun go to jail with him. But he can't be there for trying to keep me safe."

It took my father a second. His eyes opened wide, gaze dipping down to my hand before looking at my face again. He then looked at my mother, expression unchanged. Behind us, I heard my mother's quiet, "mhm," because she knew what I was trying to say. Emotions spoke louder than words.

"Family..." My father grabbed my hand with both of his and squeezed. "Nena, are you—"

I nodded before he could ask.

"Oh," he gasped with a small smile. There was a flicker of happiness in his eyes, something I hadn't expected. I was so afraid of my father finding out this soon, more afraid of what he'd say. But the sudden hug, the kiss on the forehead, it all took me off guard. Still, I welcomed it and when we stood together, I hugged him back, just as tight.

"Nena, if I would've known, I—"

"It's okay," I whispered. "It's okay, I just—"

"It isn't okay." My father put me at arm's length. He turned to Jun. "Mijo, I'm sorry you had to find out like this tonight, about what happened, but we need to go get Brian out of jail. We can talk after, I can explain, we can do whatever you want."

When I turned around to look at my brother, he was nodding, with no hesitation. He quickly moved to my mother to kiss the side of her face, then hurried over to where me and my father stood. "We can talk later," Jun said to him, then looked at me. "We'll go get Brian, okay?"

"I'm coming," I said still holding my father's arms. "I've got to go with."

"No," my father shook his head, "I think it's better if you stay here with your mother. Better to be safe."

"Pa..." As my father let me go, I watched him and Jun walk towards the door. They both looked back at me with determined looks on their faces. I knew they could take care of it, but I felt like I needed to be there for Brian. I needed to be the face he saw when he got out of that stupid place.

"Kadijah," my mother's hand softly fell on my shoulder as she came to my side, "let's sit down. Let's talk."

I bit my bottom lip as I looked at her. I tried to hide my tears.

She gave me a weak smile. "How about I make some tea?"

***

[Thank you for reading!]