Episode 1

"Ten years and you decide to come back to grandma's house just now?" It was the first time my voice had been heard in the car during our three-hour journey. My mother was sitting in the driver's seat, her eyes focused on the road.

This was the first time we returned to Texas, to the city of San Angelo where I was born. The memory of when we moved was still fresh in my mind. I was six years old, and it was after the death of my father and older brother that my mother, in her grief, decided to leave everything behind.

"Your birthday is in two months. I thought you would enjoy the company of family," she said, before returning her attention to the road.

Of course, I wanted the presence of family. I had always wished for that, until my thirteenth birthday when I realized nobody would come to my party.

I settled for resting my head against the window and falling into a deep sleep during the journey. After all, she had left San Angelo in Texas and moved to Chicago as if she were running away from someone. This meant many hours on the road and several stops.

I don't know how long I slept or blacked out, but I woke up to the rays of sun hitting my face. My mother seemed happier as she drove, and there were several empty coffee cups on the side, which made me wonder if she had rested.

"How many have you had?" I asked after stretching.

"Just five cups. It's a seventeen-hour journey... we're already halfway, and you were sleeping so well that I didn't want to stop," her vibrant voice startled me. Perhaps it was the excess caffeine.

"Mom, let's stop at the next rest area, have breakfast, and you can rest a bit," I replied, looking at the desert landscape. There were no buildings, just a path abandoned by God and man.

I really didn't expect my mother to listen and stop. Eventually, we were here, at a roadside hotel, with the car parked in front of our room. She was sleeping so peacefully that she was even snoring.

Yesterday afternoon, my life was perfect. I had my final class with Mrs. Stevens, who told me that my mother was waiting in her office.

I was sitting outside the office when my mother swiftly opened the door. Her eyes were glazed, almost fiery. At that moment, I could swear I saw her pendant on her neck burning red like fire. She looked exactly as she did ten years ago when she entered the room where I was playing with my dolls under Crystal's watchful eyes.

Now, seeing her asleep, I wondered if it was all just my imagination.

"Lou? Come on, sweetie. I've slept enough. We can hit the road again," her gentle voice woke me up. I couldn't quite remember at what point I had fallen asleep sitting on the bed, with my head hanging against the wood.

Heaven, that was going to hurt soon.

Silently, I grabbed my backpack with my belongings and headed to the car. My mother hummed a soft tune to distract herself. I knew her well, whenever she did that, it meant she didn't want to continue what she was doing. Was she already regretting the trip and considering going back to Chicago? Internally, I hoped so.

"Mama, since the journey is long, can I put on some music?" I asked with a smile, and I was sure my dimples were showing because she immediately agreed and smiled.

As soon as I got into the car, I turned on the radio. The first station played an old song by Miley Cyrus: "Party in the USA."

That was all it took. Before I knew it, I was singing along and laughing. I felt deep inside that she was running away from something, but for a moment, I forgot that feeling and just focused on making this a mother-daughter trip.

"Look, sweetheart, I know we had a life in Chicago... you had your friends and your routine. I'm sorry for taking that away from you," she said. I no longer remembered which song was playing, after all, we sang along to all of them.

I wasn't upset with her for that, not that my life in Chicago wasn't good, it actually was, but not enough to want to leave everything behind and confront my mother about such a decision. I was never the most popular girl at school, on the contrary, I was always the outcast.

I wasn't invited to parties and didn't even have friends, what I had were classmates, people who took advantage of my intelligence to gain grades and honors.

Maybe at this point I was a little cruel for making my mother believe that her precious daughter had inherited the charisma and popularity of her mother, a former cheerleader.

"Alright mom, it's not the end of the world. After all, I can talk to them on the phone." No, I can't and I certainly don't want to. Goodbye to those opportunists, let them figure out how to improve their grades.

The smile on her lips was natural, she really believed that I would keep in touch with those so-called friends.

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