I hid the contraband deep in my closet for a later time, hoping my sister would believe her gecko had escaped and was high on free will(again) and not decaying in my closet with everything else I've hoped to forget about. Then I glided out her room and swiftly closed the bathroom door as my sister walked into her room to feed Romie.

Romie who she cared about more than anyone in my family. Romie who was dead. Romie who deserved his fate.

I heard her scream and I rolled my eyes as my mom rushed up stairs, desperate for her to be okay despite my sister being cruel to her just 10 minutes ago. I walk downstairs, grabbed my backpack, told my dad in the garden I was leaving, hoping one day she would learn to love us like she loved every Romie now federalizing my dads garden.

At least the yellow hyacinths and white chrysanthemums always looked extra vibrant.