Holy shit.

This is way too much fuckery for me to process. I can't wrap my mind around the suddenness of these bombshells. My brain turns to mush.

"I don't know what to think," I whisper hoarsely.

My dad looks concerned and confused. "What do you mean?"

I don't know if I trust this woman who claims to be my great aunt.

Grimacing, I ask, "How did... Nascha Benally... even find you?"

Her name feels foreign on my tongue even though we share blood. Allegedly. 

"I think she was working with a private investigator."

Sounds shady. "A private investigator?"

"That's what Nascha told me," my dad admits. "Honestly, I don't know much about the behind-the-scene details. I only spoke to her on the phone for, maybe, twenty minutes or so. But I think we should go meet Nascha. Face to face. And hear more from her side of the story."

The steady, unbothered tone of his voice sounds as though we're trying to schedule a lunch date and not a meeting with a long-lost relative who might let him wash his hands of me. A tide of outrage and mortification threaten to overwhelm my emotions.

I can't believe my dad is so ready to ship me off to a complete stranger!

Tightly, I demand, "Are you sure I'm related to this woman? You know that Mom grew up in foster homes. She never knew her family. What if Nascha is a liar?"

"Well," he mumbles in a way that doesn't instill any confidence in me whatsoever, "anything is possible, I guess. But I think she might be the real deal. After I got off the phone with Nascha, she emailed me copies of your grandmother's birth certificate and your mom's birth certificate. The documents look legit to me."

With a somber expression, I request, "I want to see them."

My dad takes out his phone and taps his way through his inbox to pull up two different email attachments from [email protected]. They're certificates of live birth.

I scan the first document with a quickening pulse.

Name?

Apparently, my grandma's name was Doli Benally.

Place of birth?

She was born in Chinle, Arizona at the Chinle Comprehensive Health Care Facility.

As my eyes dance across the text, every detail that's revealed on this document hits me hard. My heart wrenches with regret. If only my mom was still around. If only I could pass this precious information on to her. My mom had always wanted to learn more about her mom. About her roots. About all of the family and traditions that had been lost to her when she entered the foster care system.

I switch over to inspect the second birth certificate. My mom's birth certificate. I've never seen it before but I know the basics of her profile, like, her full legal name, birth date, and place of birth.

Name?

Heidi James.

Place of birth?

Lakewood, New Jersey.

Mother's name?

Doli Benally.

Father's name?

Winston James.

Damn.

My dad wasn't wrong. These facts on my mom's certificate seem to check out. Nascha's documents do appear official. I start considering the possibility that this stranger might be my biological relative. As my paranoia relaxes by a fraction, several pressing questions form in my head: Why did my grandma and grandpa give up my mom to foster care? Where was my grandma now? Was she still alive? Why did Nascha want me to live with her? Did she have good intentions? Or shady ones?

A heavy, pensive minute creeps by. I realize that there's only one way to find answers to these unknowns.

I turn to my dad and declare, "I want to meet Nascha Benally. Can you take me to her?"

He nods readily. "Let me give her a ring to see when we can set up a meeting."

My dad doesn't even bother to hide the relief on his face. His eagerness annoys me, but I swallow my discontent and stay quiet. My dad proceeds to call up Nascha as I sit beside him. After she picks up, he stays on the phone with her for a few minutes.

Once my dad hangs up, he turns to me and reveals, "Nascha is free tomorrow. Around 10 am. She says she can't wait to meet you."

My eyes grow round. "She wants to meet me... tomorrow?"

So soon?

"Yes."

"I guess I can do tomorrow," I say even though I don't feel ready at all.

"Nascha lives in Flagstaff. She's going to text me her address in a minute. The drive should take about three hours from Tempe."

"Three hours, huh?" I remark, making a half-hearted attempt to stay upbeat. "Sounds like a fun drive for us. Like a father-daughter bonding road trip or something."

A guilty gleam flickers in my dad's blue eyes. "Look, Athena, I hate to do this to you, but..."

I eye him with distrust. "What, now?"

His brow furrows with stress. "I don't know if I can go with you. Dana is pretty pissed about you showing up out of the blue. And your aunt doesn't want anything to do with Ron or Cruz anymore. I can let you borrow the spare car and book you a motel for two or three nights if you're willing to drive yourself to Flagstaff. I need more time to sort things out with Dana and Katrina until we can figure out a place for you to stay long-term."

"Wait, wait, wait, hold up," I growl, "you wanna send me to Flagstaff? To meet Nascha? By myself?"

Not meeting my gaze, he offers, "You can call me if there's an emergency."

This man must be desperate to get me out of his house if he's willing to let me borrow his car.

I stare at him in disbelief. "You can't be serious."

"I'm going to have to put you in a motel for a few days," my dad continues, "whether you decide to go to Flagstaff or not. You can't stay here, Athena. Or else this house is going to turn into a war zone with Dana. I hope you understand."

There it is again.

His fucking catchphrase.

I hate it so much.

My jaw sets as my heart sinks. I reply with only a trace of bitterness, "I understand you. Perfectly. You've made your point loud and clear."

He frowns. "Have I?"

"Go ahead and book the motel," I mutter. "I can drive myself to Flagstaff."

"So... you'll go and meet Nascha?"

"Mm-hmm."

"Great," he says, fishing out a set of car keys from his pocket. He hands them to me. "Here's the key to the Kia. I'll get you a room at a Motel 6 in Flagstaff for three days and two nights, okay?"

Three days and two days?

"I have school on Monday," I remind him archly.

My dad releases a sheepish chuckle. "Oh, shoot. I didn't think about that. Uh, why don't I book you a night in Flagstaff, then, and two nights in Scottsdale?"

"That would probably be best."

"I'm sorry, Athena," he mumbles with an apologetic expression.

"It's fine," I return in flat tones.

"I wish I could do more for you."

I wish he actually meant it. But, at this point, I'm not in any position to negotiate with my dad. I need to accept whatever bones he's willing to toss my way. Beggars can't be choosers.

A bit grudgingly, I try not to burn any bridges when I add, "I appreciate the fact that you're trying to help."

"You're welcome."

I look down at my feet. "I guess I'll get on my way."

"You probably should. I'll do my best to convince Dana to change her mind about you."

Wrinkling my nose, I grunt. "Good luck with that."

My dad walks me out the front door. "Drive safely, Athena. Text me when you get to Flagstaff."

"I will."

"Maybe you can bring that Recker boy with you? It might be safer to travel with a friend."

"Yeah," I agree, "that's probably a good idea."

Naturally, I was planning to bring Cruz, but my dad's suggestion surprises me. I thought, by default, he didn't like Cruz because of Ron. Most dads wouldn't want theirs daughters associating with anyone related to Ron.

Now that I'm getting out of his hair, I guess my dad has no problem with Cruz as long as we're not his problem.

Or maybe my dad simply doesn't care if I get kidnapped or raped by some random guy he just met.

There's so much I want to say, but no point in saying it.

After a moment of hesitation, my dad and I lock eyes. Shame tightens across his face. Resentment and disappointment flash over mine. This has always been the dynamic of our relationship, and I don't think it'll ever change. We say our goodbyes. I step out of the house. My dad closes the front door. I feel strangely empty inside. It's all very anti-climatic.

To my left, Cruz observes the awkwardness of our exchange without saying a word. He has been waiting out here this entire time. By the tense look on his face, I can tell he's brimming with questions.

With a crooked smile, I choose to put him out of his misery. I dangle the key to my dad's Kia in the air. "Guess what?"

Intrigued, Cruz glances at the key in my hand. "What?"

I announce, "We're taking a road trip."

"A road trip?"

"To Flagstaff."

"Flagstaff?" he repeats incredulously. "Why?"

"I need to meet someone named Nascha Benally."

Cruz appears understandably bewildered. "Uh..."

"My dad claims that Nascha is my great aunt. Biological. On my mom's side. She wants to meet me. Tomorrow. My dad's gonna book us a motel for the next three days."

"No way."

"I think my great aunt wants me to go live with her."

Cruz's eyebrows drift upward. "That's fucking insane. You don't even know her."

"Yeah, we might as well be strangers."

"Why are you thinking about going, then? I don't trust her."

"Well, that's what I need to find out on this trip," I murmur with a sigh, "if she's trustworthy. Or not. Either way, I don't think my dad wants to take us in."

"Because of his wife?"

The brave face I put on for my dad begins to crack. My voice wobbles when I finally confront the dismal reality of our situation, "Yeah, it's very possible that Nascha may be my next best option, my only option, if we don't wanna end up on the streets."

Cruz reaches over to cup my cheek. "I know we're in a shitty position, but don't feel pressured to live anywhere you're not comfortable with, okay? We're not gonna end up on the streets. I'll figure something out for us."

"How can you be so sure?"

He grasps my hand and gives it a squeeze. "Because I care about you too much to ever give up. Where there's a fucking will, there's gotta be a fucking way."

I gaze up at him with soft, starry eyes. Unable to help myself any longer, I stand on my tiptoes and peck him sweetly on the lips. Our relationship is the one good thing in my life right now, and I've come to cherish this boy more than anything in the world.

"I can already see the man you're about to become," I whisper, "and he's gonna be unstoppable in a few years' time."

"Only because I have you," he whispers back. 

"Fuck, you're gonna make me ugly cry."

"Impossible. There's nothing ugly about you."

"Stop it." I grin in spite of the heaviness in my heart. "You don't have time to be cute. We gotta go to Flagstaff."

Chuckling, Cruz nods. "Let's hit the road."

From there, Cruz loads all of our luggage into the trunk of my dad's Kia. It's only then that I realized how little he packed for our escape. Just one backpack and one small suitcase. A frown of confusion pulls on my mouth. I know Cruz has a bunch of nice, expensive shit in his room. Nice, expensive shit like his Xbox, video games, brand name sneakers, and so on. We could totally sell some of it on Craigslist or pawn it off for cash.

I can't help but wonder why he left it all behind?

***

Holy moly! There's so much going on right now, but we're getting closer and closer to the ending. I'm hoping to wrap up this book in about fifteen chapters or so? Wish me luck, lol!

So... do we trust Nascha?

What do you think will happen on Cruz and Athena's road trip to Flagstaff? Especially in the motel room? Bahaha!

Much lub to you all! <3