“Kylian Castillo Fortone!” Jasmina hollered. “What were you thinking not answering any of our calls?” Her eyes ran over his 
battered state as he leaned warily on Johnathan. “And what happened to you? You look…” she gasped and narrowed her eyes. “You got involved. You—you—you…”

Kylian focused on the white-tiled floor of the living room, frowning. “And what’s wrong with that?” It wasn’t like he wasn’t terrified of the whole ordeal himself. What right did his sister have being more scared than him?

Johnathan shifted his weight uncomfortably, then helped Kylian onto a sofa. He left before Kyle can mumble his gratitude.

Jasmina was pacing around the room, back and forth. He remembered the last time something like this happened. Tia Magdalena denied all relations to the Fortones and packed her bags with her family.

“What’s wrong with that?! What’s wrong with that?” Jasmina came to an abrupt halt in front of Kyle, who slid down a little on his seat. “Everything about it is wrong, Kyle! You—” She took a deep breath before continuing in a more controlled voice. “You used your…abilities. Do you know how—”

“I know how dangerous it is, Jas!” Kylian yelled, causing Jasmina to flinch.

“No, you don’t!” She yelled back. “You have no idea! Our father…he did many terrible things. Many unspeakable things. The last thing anyone needs in this house is you paying for his crimes, Kylian.” Her eyes softened. “I an trying to protect you. I told you never to use your abilities outside and what do you do?”

“I use my abilities in public.”

“Exactly! Has obedience never gone past you?”

“But Dad doesn’t think so,” Kylian huffed. “He’s never mentioned anything about—”

“Papa doesn’t know what’s right for you,” she was yelling again. “It’s true, Kyle, sometime he can be a complete—” She stopped herself, breathing hard, looking shocked at her own words. “I don’t know why Papa never speaks about your…thing. But you must  understand, you must never repeat this again.”

Kylian was getting angry as she spoke. “And what? Do nothing? Watch as people get injured?”

Jasmina gave him a long, hard look. He could almost see the different possibilities chasing around each other in her mind on how the day could have ended. “They won’t see you as a hero,” she said softly. “You won’t be a hero to them.”

Kylian scoffed. “That wasn’t my intention. I don’t want to be a hero.”

She shook her head. “You are not a good person in the eyes of…your kind, Kylian,” she said more quietly. Kylian stared shocked at her, her words ringing loud in his head despite the fact that she barely whispered it.

How could she say that? She was the last person he’d expect to hear those words from. She was supposed to be supportive not…harsh.

Kylian’s voice trembled when he said, “Jasmina, how—you weren’t supposed to…” he blinked furiously, trying to keep his eyes from flooding as he tried to sit up straighter. “I am not a bad person. Just-Just because Dad, he made me into a-a—” He couldn’t even bring himself to finish his sentence.

Jasmina looked away, her eyes closed tight. “We will go no further with this conversation. Promise me you will never—”

“No.”

She opened her eyes, surprised. “I’m sorry?”

“I said no,” he said more firmly. “I’m not making anymore promises.

Jasmina gazed at him uncertainly. “What happened today, Kyle?”

“A lot,” he said truthfully.

Jasmina’s eyes flicked from his face to her hands. She sighed. “Fine,” she said quietly. “But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

She hesitated before walking out the room, taking with her what little warmth the room held, leaving Kylian to gape at her words and his own. He stared at his hands, the skin around his fingers peeling and sore after the unexpected amount of labor he did a few hours ago, his mind not registering what he saw. The only thing he could focus on were the harsh words bumping around in his head.

You’re not a good person in the eyes of your kind, Kylian.

                Kylian gently placed his fingers on the white tiles of the piano that no one ever played, not even Kylian, who stopped once his mother left, taking with her all the music the house ever had. His mother taught him how to play it but never once has he touched a piano since that day, not even for Jasmina. The disappearance of his mother shocked him into stop playing it.

His fingers twitched as they touched the cold and lifeless keys. He lifted his hand, letting it hover uncertainly, an inch above them. On a sudden impulse, he let his forefinger fall onto the surface and pressed down on the middle C. He fought the urge to jerk his hand back at the sound of the note.

“Cry no tears, ma petite mignonette.”

Kylian shuddered at the memory of those words, the tune that accompanied it sending shivers down his spine.

The girl stood with her back to him, her dark hair cascading down her shoulders, at the entrance of their father’s study. Accolades and certificates lined the walls of the wooden furnished room on the second floor of their house. On the window behind the desk stood their father in his grey cardigan, who also had his back towards them. The window was open and a soft breeze sneaked into the room, ruffling the papers the desk.

“Smile wide, look alive, my little marionette.”

Kylian stared at the girl’s back. He felt the sudden urge to walk up to the window where his father stood. They still hadn’t realized he was behind her.

“Don't scream or cry when I show you a surprise.”

Their father’s cardigan billowed in another gust of wind that gushed into the room. His father took a step forward onto the ledge outside the window. Kylian followed suit, stepping forward, towards the girl, still hidden behind her.

“Bite your tongue, look calm, my little marionette.”

Kylian rushed forward with a fiery desire to push the man, help him fly, and then jump after him so he may fly, too. He was almost there. They could fly together, father and son, just like he’s always wanted.

“Kylian, NO!” The girl shrieked.

It was as if a spell had broken. Kyle halted in his tracks, his momentum causing him to fall on his chest, barely missing the low window sill. He heard his father shout in surprise was by his side in seconds, scooping him into his father’s arms, holding him to his father’s chest behind which his heart hammered hard. His father looked at the girl, his grey eyes gleaming with something frightening.

The girl gazed back blankly, her eyes hollow and haunting. She frowned just as Kylian’s mind cleared and he recognized who she was. “Didn’t you want to fly, Papa?”

Kylian jumped up from the piano seat, sending the chair flying back as he staggered backwards. His hand went to his chest, a burning sensation over his heart. He worried if he was suddenly having a heart attack.

“Kylian?”

Kyle whipped his head behind, Johnathan stood at the door, hesitating to enter, his aged face wrinkled with concern. “Are you alright?”

Kyle waved a hand at him, straightening up and running a hand over his shirt and the small tears to smoothen it. “Yes. Yes, I’m alright.”

Johnathan’s face creased further. “Are you sure? Because I can—”

“No, no,” Kylian said softly, looking back at the piano, shuddering. “It’s just…just monsters.”

Johnathan frowned. He shook his head and walked up to Kyle who stared at him blankly as he approached.

Monsters. That’s what his father made. Monsters.

His absent sister, Sienna—she’s a monster. The beautiful siren who their father claimed was inept to be in society. Kyle himself was a monster, who could hold up a ferries wheel, tear people apart with his bare hands if he was determined enough. The thought terrified him. And Jasmina…there must be some sort of a monster lurking behind her eyes, hidden. His father wouldn’t 
spare anyone.

Johnathan smiled kindly at Kyle, a hand on his strained back. “You need a good massage, young man. I don’t know what you did, but your body needs rest.”