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She ignores that and picks up a tiny albóndiga next.

“You deserve a love like your cousin Poe writes.”

I knew those damn books would haunt me sooner or later.

I stare at her.

“Oh, God, no.” I pick up another pastelillo and take a small bite before putting it down.

Next to me, one of Dad’s many sculptures of Mom as Aphrodite seems deeply disappointed by my opinion on love.

I don’t care what anyone says.

Dad’s love language is creepy.

Mom suddenly makes a thoughtful noise.

I know that noise.

“What now?” I ask.

Mom’s eyes sparkle with something that looks a lot like mischief.

“Oh, nothing.”

Which means absolutely something.

I narrow my eyes at the same time my mother’s smile widens.

And for reasons I cannot explain, a strange feeling settles in the pit of my stomach.

Like something is coming.

I glance up toward the sky and notice how snow clouds gather in the distance. A breeze moves through the roses and chill crawls up my spine.

Somewhere behind us, water trickles from the fountain my father installed after deciding the statues of my mom weren’t enough.

Personally, I think one should have been the limit.

“How’s Eloise?” Mother asks suddenly.

Now she’s asking about my pet fish?

“Still alive.”

Mom looks offended.

“She’s my pet granddaughter.”

I cringe at that.

“She is a nuisance.”

My mother laughs.

I don’t.

“Eloise is a member of this family.”