Not too long ago, the stars guided civilizations through the oceans and marked the optimal times to plant and harvest. People from all over the world used the sky as a calendar, a map, and a mirror for their beliefs. It was a compass, a clock, and an altar.

Taking inspiration from both old and new rituals, Shanaya created one when she took me in and gave me the chance to live under the same roof as her.

Every night, after we finished our shift, we would grab cushions and climb the stairs to the rooftop. She lit her cigarette as a Hollywood actress, unaware of the conflicts that happened behind the windows of the other buildings nearby. 

As we watched the stars, smoke danced above our heads, like a priestess who worships a deity. We laughed and talked about many things, except the past.

“I have no intention of asking about who you were back then. But I’ll worry about you from now on, so you better take care.”

Those were my exact thoughts on the day I saw Josh for the first time. I considered marking his size on my door frame, the camping trips, Shanaya prepared her famous burger for him, all the new traditions we intended to build collectively. Everything would be perfect as we left his past behind, and it didn’t mean a thing to us anymore. For a while, it seemed like nothing could disrupt this new beginning, until Mia took me inside her house. 

After that, I couldn’t keep that promise. She tricked me into thinking she wanted to escape her situation. This made me question if removing her from Josh’s life was right, or if she truly needed help. 

As I believed there might be a chance for the three of us, I knew what I had to do if she declined. And there I was, ready to get her out of the way. But Josh had something to say.

“Sure, we can talk, little man. What is it?” 

Mrs. Jones’ gaze shifted from the tip of my knife to my side, where he held me.

“Y-you said that… you will be like Captain America and protect me.” He sniffled and wiped his tears with his sleeve.

“That’s right.”

“Josh, what are you-” Mia whispered.

The blade’s icy kiss broke her skin. A thin ribbon of blood slithered down her throat. She shivered; the kid gasped.

“It’s not polite to interrupt his thoughts, you know. Go on, buddy.”

“Uhm.” His eyes wandered around. “And will you protect everyone I like?”

“Of course! With my life, if I need to.”

Josh became quiet briefly and pondered the proper words. 

“T-Then, Mrs. Graham… I mean, Mama! I love Mommy, and you too! Can we please keep her safe?”

The way he treated everyone in his life had always been remarkable; his words touched me deeply.

“That’s exactly how I feel about you and Mommy too, buddy!” I caressed his hair and turned to Mrs. Jones, looking deep into her eyes. “But she doesn’t wanna come with us. If word gets out about what happened here tonight, there will be misunderstandings. People might try to take you away from me.”

To confess that out loud made my heart pound against my chest.

“That would be dreadful.” I sensed the need to move swiftly to evade distrust and keep my connection to Josh safe. “I’ll make it fast. Don’t worry, Mama knows best.” 

Josh whimpered. Mia’s tears rolled down her cheeks like a waterfall on a rainy day.

“Oh God, no.”

Although I had decided, his words got to me. I’m failing my son if I can’t fulfill his request; what kind of mother would that be?  The need to keep him safe conflicted with my plans, and prompted me to question what being a good parent truly meant.

I scanned the room for options. Anything that would help me keep my word. It took me a couple of minutes before I thought about something.

“Josh, I thought of a way to protect her.”

“You promise?” His eyes sparkled with hope.

“I do. Let’s move the furniture over there.”

The three of us moved together. Among what was stored in the basement, I selected a chair and asked Mia to sit in it. I reached into one of my pockets and pulled out a roll of duct tape. 

“Can you wrap things up with this, buddy?”

He nodded.

“Good. You are going to use it on Mommy’s ankles and wrists. Do your best, okay? Go on.”

Mrs. Jones’s pitiful gaze made the boy hesitate. But I touched his shoulder to give him confidence that he was doing the right thing. Ten minutes later, he finished what I had asked, and I double-checked it. She could barely move, and the circulation in her limbs wasn’t compromised.

“You did a wonderful job, little man. Let’s head upstairs; there’s a lot of today’s celebration for us yet to enjoy.”

I reached for his hand, and we walked toward the stairs. Mia sobbed and pleaded.

“Tessa, please. Don’t take Josh; remember what we shared. It’s not too late. We can fix this!”

The urge to murder coursed through me like a flame, but I was unable to break my word to Josh. My motive shifted from anger at Mia because I had to honor what I had told my son. I grunted, “Stay here,” to the boy, stomped back to her, and squeezed her face with my hand.

“Listen well, because I won’t repeat myself. You had your chance and decided not to take it. Appreciate Josh’s actions.”

I tore another piece of tape and covered her mouth. She screamed and wriggled as I approached my son. His eyes opened wide. The little nose was red from crying. 

“I-is she going to be alright?”

“She is, honey. Are you hungry? I’ll fix you something to eat.

We climbed back to the hallway, and I locked the door. It was hard to listen to her screams as we went into the kitchen. For the time being, that will give us some peace of mind. “Sit,” I said to him as I dug into the fridge to find ingredients. 

Josh fidgeted with his fingers and bit his lip as he looked around. I hummed “Carol of the Bells” while I grabbed pans and a spoon to cook. The stove was on. I cracked a couple of eggs, took some chicken, and shredded cheese. This isn’t much of a Christmas dinner, but it’ll do.

“Mama?”

 “Yes, darling?”

“I need to wash before I can eat.” He said in a low voice.

Our eyes met.  He was still nervous after all the chaos. I knew things would settle. I just had to help him feel safe.

“Sure, little man. Food will be ready when you come back.”

He got off the chair and walked like a true gentleman upstairs. The food sizzled, and a wonderful aroma filled the air. My son was there and loved me, and there was nothing else I could ask for.

I took my time with preparing his meal and waited five minutes for Josh to return. When he didn’t come back down, I turned off the stove and listened. I heard a timid thump. The faucet doesn’t seem to be on. An uneasy feeling crept in — a dreadful hint that the calm had abruptly ended.

“Josh?” I called as loudly as I could.

The thud intensified. Something didn’t sound right. I left everything behind and rushed upstairs.

“Josh!”

The noise got stronger to my right, where Mr. and Mrs. Jones’ room was. I marched in. The floor had clothing and electronics thrown all over it. Josh stood in the middle of the mess, cell phone in hand. 

“What do you think you are doing?”

He gasped.

“Ms. Graham, don’t hurt me, please.” His fingers tightened around the phone he had found.

Anger consumed me and fueled my need to regain control of the situation and keep Josh safe. I lunged at him and screamed, “You will never call me that again. Do you hear me?” I gripped the object and pulled. Josh came along, refusing to let it go.

I dragged him out of the room—careful not to hurt my kid —but I needed the damn phone. My steps were uneven and I almost tripped over his favorite sneakers. I knew he’d let go soon, and my hands stayed steady. Just a kid, in a test of strength against an adult. And me? I wasn’t about to lose.

“M-Mama, stop!” He whined.

“Give it to me now!”

With one last pull, I got it away from him. Josh screamed, and not because he wasn’t able to fulfill his intent, but I had missed where the brief clash had taken me —the top of the stairs.

If Richard hadn’t sunk his teeth into me like some rabid animal, maybe I’d still be standing. But my ankle rolled, my arm snapped back, and I tumbled backward. My spine hit the step first, then my head. The crack of bones echoed somewhere far off, muffled by the pain that causes one to blank everything out.

Shit. Shanaya will be mad if I miss New Year’s Eve.

That was my last thought before it all turned dark.

Editor: Lucy Cafiero