On Mum's birthday, Dad takes me and Rhys to their house. Rhys is sat sullenly in the backseat of the car. He doesn't want to go to the party.

We're both dressed in new clothes that dad gave us money to buy. He wanted us to look good for the party. I think he wanted to show her he's looking after us. I like to think he's showing her we're still better. We're better than them.

I pretend to check out my rose-tinted lip balm in the small mirror of the front sun visor, but I’m really looking at my brother's reflection. He's staring at Mum's new house. He blinks, and I swear I see his eyes shine. His melancholy hurts my stomach. I think I prefer his anger.

I take in all the decorations around the fancy, big house. Fairy lights flicker all around. The front garden looks like a fairy tale fit for any princess, and the emerald grass sparkles beneath the bulbs of a million twinkling lights.

When I open the car door, I hear soft music coming from around the back of the house. I get out and run my hands down my dress to remove any creases, my fingers looking for imaginary lint as I walk towards the front door.

Mum opens it, her face a picture of happiness.

She stares at me, blinking away the sheen in her eyes as she takes in my pretty new dress, with Rhys sulkily walking behind me.

She smiles big. The biggest I’ve seen in forever. We've come to her on her birthday.

"Happy Birthday, Mum." We didn’t buy her a gift—my one concession to Rhys for coming with me, no presents—I'm not sure if she even notices. I look to her wrist and I wonder if she remembers last year when I bought her a bracelet made from silver flowers.

I told each one a secret.

I told each one to keep my mum safe.

I didn't know she was going to leave us then.

She tugs me forward, holds me tight against her chest, and squeezes me. This is the first time she's held me since she walked out our door all those months ago.

It feels wrong. It doesn't feel like it used to.

So, I just stand there under the twinkling fairy lights, on the emerald green grass, as my mum holds me tightly. Eventually, she releases me.

“Why don’t you go inside. I'll just wait for your brother."

Inside, more lights twinkle at me. They are strung from everywhere, casting a glittery, magical glow on everything. The deeper I get into the house, the louder the music gets.

I thought it was a recording or a band but the closer I get to the music I can tell it's just a guitar and one voice singing.

A few people stand around the open doors that lead into the backyard and loads more meander about beneath yellow glowing lamps and trees full of shimmering stars.

Galen is alone on a chair, surrounded by a crowd, a guitar in his hands, his head bowed over his chest, his fingers working smoothly over the strings.

I stand transfixed.

Just like when we play ‘The Battle’, he senses me. Still playing, his concentration on the music, he lifts his head.

Emerald green eyes meet my bright blue. They lock and engage. There are no muttered curse words this time, no pretending we're not staring at each other.

He continues to play, but I chicken out and turn away back into the house and up towards the second floor.

It's bigger than our house. It has a grand staircase that leads left or right and a long landing that extends down towards many rooms. Nothing like our small, three-bedroom terrace.

I remember Mum saying one of these rooms is mine, and make my way past the doors. When I see an intricate flower engraved on a wooden plaque, I know this is my room so I push down the handle and step inside.

It's bare except for a bed and a desk.

The plain magnolia walls are cold. There are no knickknacks or accessories, and I wonder if it's waiting for me to decorate or if it's bare because I was never expected to stay.

The door clicks shut behind me, and I take a deep breath expecting it to be my mum.

It's not; it's Galen.

"What are you doing in here? Leave. I want to be on my own."

He shrugs in that smug way of his, and the twinkling lights from outside the window catch his face, making him sparkle like the Vampires in the books Erin loves.

"I told you to leave."

"Can't."

"What do you mean you can't?"

"I'm not leaving until you agree to come downstairs. It's Mum's birthday."

"She's not your mum."

"So you keep telling me."

At this moment, I hate Galen. I hate him for being in this barren room. I hate him for living in this big house. I hate him for having eyes the same colour as its perfect grass.

But I hate him more because he gets to call my mum, Mum.

"You don't like me very much, do you?" he asks.

"Am I supposed to?"

He takes a step forward but thinks better of it and turns towards the desk, pulling open one of the drawers.

"Your scrapbook that you left, I put it in here." He indicates to the drawer.

"I didn't leave it. You took my suitcase from me."

"You were supposed to come back. I've wanted to return it to you for months."

I turn my back on him to look out of the window. "It's not a big deal. I didn’t need it."

"I looked through your flowers."

"I thought you might. I probably would’ve done the same."

"Do you like them because of your name?"

"No," I answer honestly.

"But that's what Fflur means, isn't it? Flower? That's why everyone calls you that."

"They don't anymore."

"So tell me. Why the flowers?"

I don't know why, but I want to tell him. I want to share this truth. My truth.

"I like flowers because they're strong. Resilient. They grow everywhere, even in the desert. Give them a little sun and a bit of water, and you'll find flowers. They can make even the most barren place beautiful."

I glance at my bare room.

"They can break through cracks in the pavement, and they ignore the shadows and turn to face the sun and smile."

My voice becomes almost a whisper when I confess, "And they listen to everything I have to say."

"Mum says you want to be a horticulturist when you're older."

I nod.

"Cool. I think it suits you.”

The room is silent for a long time until Galen whispers, "Come downstairs. Have fun. Eat some cake. It doesn’t mean you’re betraying your father if you enjoy yourself while you’re here. You don’t have to be miserable, you don’t have to pick a side and stick to it. You get to have them both, Fflur. You haven’t lost anything."

I don't need to reply because the door to the room bursts open and Rhys stands outside. He stares at Galen then looks at me.

"Is this little prick bothering you?"

I shake my head and softly reply, "No. He's not bothering me. He was just leaving."

Rhys blanks Galen, but Galen doesn't care. He walks out of my empty and cold room with his usual swagger.