I’d bluffed.

The paper I’d given Sophia had been a copy of my dad’s will, but I’d never shown it to anyone else except Jesse.

But now that I thought about it, showing it to Ms. Moreau seemed like the best idea. I knew I could trust her.

Last night, I’d crashed into bed and fallen asleep, tears still fresh on my face. A wave of exhaustion had rolled over me before I could even think of texting Jesse or my friends. I’d slept better than I had in a long time.

When the sun peered in through the windows this morning, Sophia, Courtney, and Lindsay had all been gone. Probably out to breakfast so they wouldn’t have to see me.

So I ate alone, enjoying the peace and quiet before taking my time getting ready for once in my life.

Jesse picked me up as promised and walked me to every single class, his hand in mine. At first, the stares were unnerving, but Jesse reassured me, saying there was nothing to worry about.

At lunch, everyone wanted to know details of the night before. Even Tori joined us at our table.

I waved to Jesse. I’d see him in chemistry. Right now, I needed to talk to my friends.

“Wow, you had quite a night,” Lena said in approval.

Harper rubbed my shoulder. “Good for you for standing up to your stepmom. That couldn’t have been easy.”

Tori nodded but looked down for a moment. “I can’t believe your dad’s will was there all along.”

“I know,” I said. “And it wasn’t easy. But it was about time I stood up to her.”

Rey said, gazing off, “I guess evil stepmothers and stepsisters really do exist.”

She looked like she was in a daydream, with the pen in her hand, ready to write the story inside her head. Her open journal lay in front of her like a blank canvas.

My eyes automatically went to Lindsay and Courtney across the lunchroom. It was too bad things had turned out this way.

My mind snapped to what I needed to do next. “Listen, guys. I’ve gotta go. I’ll see you guys later?”

They nodded and waved, and I left.

I headed toward Ms. Moreau’s office, and with each step, it felt like I was getting closer and closer to starting my new life.

I had no idea what was going to happen to me next, but it had to be better than this. Than the daily torment I faced at home.

I knocked on Ms. Moreau’s door and walked in.

Thankfully, she was alone, but she was reading.

“Sorry to interrupt,” I said. “I can come back later.”

She quickly closed the book and took off her reading glasses. “Not at all. Come in, sweetheart.”

She waited until I was seated in front of her to go on. “How can I help?”

I pulled the will out, the real copy, and handed it to her.

She read over it for several minutes before looking up at me, her reading glasses back on her nose.

“Oh my,” she said.

“Yeah,” I said. “I need your help.”

One of the first things that happened after I took my dad’s will to a lawyer was that I found out all Sophia had been hiding from me.

That letter she’d said was full of meaningless legal guardianship paperwork? Stuff I didn’t need to concern myself with? It was from my dad’s cousin.

They grew up together but ended up going different ways when they left Puerto Rico. My dad went to college, played soccer, and got his computer engineering degree. She had joined the Navy and served up until a few months ago, when she’d finally gone back to visit family.

But she’d found out from my relatives in Puerto Rico about my dad. The first thing she’d asked about was me. What had happened to me?

My grandparents, her aunt and uncle, had passed away too, but she was determined to meet her me, her cousin’s daughter The lawyer I had hired to look into my dad’s will found out about her and asked me if I wanted to meet her. I’d immediately said yes.

We met for lunch the next day.

When she saw me, her bottom lip trembled, and tears welled up in her eyes. “I just knew I had to meet you. You look so much like him.” She had a bit of a Spanish accent, which I loved because it reminded me of my roots, my dad. “I’m Isabel. Feel free to call me Tía Isabel or just Isabel, whichever you prefer.”

“I’m Ella,” I said. “You’re my dad’s cousin?”

She smiled. “That’s right. And where we’re from, that makes me your aunt. Your tía.”

I nodded. “Okay, then. I’ll call you Tía Isabel.”

She beamed, and we sat down.

By the time the server brought our drinks, we were chatting like we’d known each other our whole lives. Tía Isabel was easy to talk to.

“Your dad was like a brother to me. He always supported me.” She teared up at the mention of him, and I did too because I finally had someone who shared my grief. Even if it had happened years ago. I’d never really been able to talk about it. Definitely not to Sophia.

“I think he talked about you a couple times when I was growing up,” I said, clearing my throat. “About the swing in the tree you guys built?”

She laughed, wiping away her tears. “Oh my gosh. I’d forgotten about that. He was pushing me on it one time, and it just broke. The rope did. I was mad at him forever about it.”

I pictured my dad as a kid trying to get her to forgive him.

“I finally forgave him when he took the blame for something I did.” She stared off for a moment, back to her childhood.

“Why’d you leave Puerto Rico?” I asked. “Isn’t it beautiful there? I wish I could go.”

“Oh, I have to take you there one day. You can meet all your cousins and see your dad’s baby pictures. My tía, your great aunt, has all of them.”

I nodded frantically then waited for her to answer my first question.

She glanced away. “I left Puerto Rico to join the Navy. My parents were against it. They didn’t think a young woman such as myself should be doing a man’s responsibility. They said it was my duty to find a good man, get married, and give him children.”

“Wow,” I said. Talk about old-fashioned thinking.

“Yeah,” she said. “I told them I wasn’t interested in any of that. All the little girls in our neighborhood dreamed of their wedding day and pretended to be housewives. I hung out with the boys and desperately wished I was one of them. One day during an argument, I told them I wasn’t interested in men, in getting married. None of it. They finally said it was better if I did leave Puerto Rico.”

She paused for a few seconds.

“They would rather tell everyone I left for the United States to find a successful man rather than tell the truth, that I left for the Navy and was gay.”

“I’m so sorry,” I said.

“Those were different times.” She took a deep breath. “Ella, you must promise me that you’ll tell me if my being gay ever bothers you. I can handle the truth.”

My mouth fell open, not sure how to respond to that.

“I don’t have a girlfriend at the moment, but if I ever did, I would not want you to feel uncomfortable around me. It would kill me. I just came into your life, but it’s up to you if you want me to stay.”

“Of course. Of course, I want you to stay, Tía.” I grabbed her hand. “You’re the only family I have.”

She smiled and wiped another tear from her eye. “I was hoping you’d say that, because I have something else to tell you. Well, to ask you.”

I put my hand back in my lap. She continued talking, meeting my eyes.

“I hired a lawyer of my own. He thinks I have a good chance of gaining custody of you. I know it would only be another year and a half before you left for college, but it would mean the world to me if you came to live with me. If you allowed me to be your guardian always. During college. After. Any time you wanted to go home to your stepmom, you could—”

I had to stop her right there before she kept going on.

“I would love to,” I said. “I would absolutely love to.”

Then I stood up, went to her side of the booth and hugged her. For a moment, it felt like I was hugging my dad again.

I would have a home. Family who cared about me.

My phone buzzed in my pocket. It was Harper, wondering how our meeting was going.

“Do you need to go?” my aunt asked.

I shook my head. “Actually, I was wondering if I could get a picture of us? My best friends are already dying to meet you.”

My Tía Isabel’s face lit up, and she scooted closer. I held up my phone and took a selfie of us.

“It’s perfect,” I said and sent it my friends.

“You have to tell me about your them,” my aunt said. “Do they like computers too?”

“Not at all,” I began, laughing.