Chapter 1 — The Life She Built

Axarii

The morning sun spilled through the gauzy curtains of Axarii’s bedroom, casting a warm, golden glow that reminded her of summers spent at her abuela’s house. Those days always began with the aroma of café con leche and the sound of laughter echoing through the halls. The soft hum of the ceiling fan punctuated the quiet calm, a fleeting moment of stillness before the rhythm of her day began. Axarii stretched, her caramel-toned skin catching the light as she reached for her pendant necklace resting on the nightstand. She slipped the delicate chain around her neck, the infinity symbol cool against her collarbone, the tiny rose quartz stone nestled within its design brushing her skin. Her fingers lingered on it briefly, feeling its familiar weight and texture, drawing quiet strength from the connection it symbolized—resilience, self-love, and the enduring bonds she’d built around her children.

A burst of giggles from the hallway disrupted the stillness. Reyna’s laughter rang out like tiny bell chimes, unmistakably leading whatever mischief was afoot, with Cole’s quieter, hesitant chuckles trailing just behind. Smiling to herself, Axarii pushed back the covers, the hem of her soft cotton robe brushing her bare ankles as she crossed the room.

She found them in the kitchen, their mismatched chairs pulled up to the counter. Reyna, still in her brightly colored pajamas adorned with dancing llamas, was vigorously stirring batter in a bowl, her cheeks dusted with flour like freckles of her own making. Beside her, Cole meticulously measured sugar into a cup, his little brow furrowed in concentration as though the fate of the morning depended on precise measurements. The counter was a chaotic array of spilled milk, scattered chocolate chips, and streaks of batter—evidence of their unrestrained creativity. On another day, the mess might have drawn a sigh of exasperation, but this morning, it only made Axarii’s heart swell.

“Good morning, mis pequeños chefs,” Axarii greeted, leaning against the doorway with an amused tilt of her head.

“Mamá!” Reyna chirped, her curls bouncing as she turned to beam at her mother. “We’re making pancakes! From scratch!”

“Are we now?” Axarii stepped closer, inspecting the bowl with exaggerated seriousness. “It looks like you’re making quite the mess, too.”

Cole glanced up from his task, his hazel eyes wide with concern. “Is that...bad?” he asked softly, his measuring spoon hovering uncertainly above the counter.

“Not at all,” Axarii said gently, brushing a streak of flour off his forehead. “Messy mornings make the best memories.”

Reyna grinned at her mother’s words, her confidence undeterred as she resumed stirring with renewed vigor. “I’m going to win the pancake competition!” she declared, her voice brimming with conviction.

“Reyna, it’s not a competition,” Cole murmured, though his tone carried the careful patience of someone who suspected he might be wrong. “Is it, mamá?”

Axarii chuckled, reaching for a towel to start tidying the counter. “It’s not, cariño. But if it were, you’d both win.”

She moved seamlessly between wiping spills and listening to Reyna’s enthusiastic chatter about the school fundraiser. Cole chimed in occasionally with thoughtful questions about pancake flipping techniques and why chocolate chips always sank to the bottom of the batter. The scent of vanilla and butter began to fill the room as the first pancake sizzled on the griddle, mingling with the faint lavender aroma from the potted plant by the kitchen window.

As Axarii plated the last golden stack, the doorbell rang, breaking her rhythm. She glanced at the clock, her brows furrowing slightly—it was still early for visitors. Wiping her hands on a kitchen towel, she motioned for the twins to start eating before heading to the door.

“Winston,” she greeted, her tone a blend of fondness and exasperation as she opened the door to find her best friend standing there, holding two steaming cups of coffee. His broad smile was like his knock—confident and familiar.

“Morning, Sunshine,” Winston said, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation. His deep voice carried its usual easy warmth, tempered with a teasing edge. “Figured you could use a pick-me-up. And judging by the syrup on your doorknob, I’d say I was right.”

Axarii rolled her eyes but accepted the cup with a grateful smile, inhaling deeply. “You spoil me.”

“Of course.” He winked. “That’s what best friends are for.” His gaze shifted to the kitchen, where the twins were now engrossed in a spirited debate about whether syrup should go on pancakes before or after cutting them. “Looks like your little geniuses are at it again.”

“They’re unstoppable,” Axarii replied, her voice tinged with pride as she sipped her coffee. Its comforting bitterness grounded her, even as an undercurrent of lingering unease stirred within her—a shadow she didn’t have time to name. She nodded toward the living room. “Come on, let’s sit.”

The living room reflected Axarii’s personality—cozy, vibrant, and layered with meaning. Woven rugs in vibrant hues softened the floor, while a soft throw draped over the sofa invited comfort. Framed family photos lined the walls, a silent testament to the life and love she fought to preserve. Winston sank into the armchair by the window, while Axarii perched on the sofa, tucking her legs beneath her.

“So,” Winston began, raising an eyebrow. “Are you ready for the fundraiser chaos?”

Axarii sighed, shaking her head with a soft laugh. “Hardly. But Reyna’s excitement makes it impossible to say no. She’s convinced we’re going to win the raffle and take home that ridiculous stuffed unicorn.”

Winston chuckled, leaning back. “If anyone can bend the universe to their will, it’s your daughter. That unicorn doesn’t stand a chance.”

“She’s relentless,” Axarii agreed, her smile softening as her gaze drifted to the kitchen. “But sometimes I worry it’s too much. She tries so hard to make everyone happy.”

“She gets that from you,” Winston said, his teasing tone giving way to something gentler. “That big heart of hers? Pure Axarii.”

Axarii’s smile faltered, and she lowered her gaze to her coffee. The familiar spiral of self-doubt tugged at her edges, her mind flickering to the whispers and sidelong glances she’d learned to ignore. “I just want them to have a good life,” she murmured. “A stable life. That’s all that matters.”

“And they do,” Winston said, his voice firm. “Because you built it for them.”

Before Axarii could respond, a burst of energy announced the twins’ arrival. Reyna bounded into the room, her face smeared with syrup, while Cole trailed behind, holding out a neatly folded napkin as if to compensate for his sister’s exuberance.

“Winston!” Reyna exclaimed, throwing her arms around him in a dramatic hug. “Guess what? We made pancakes!”

“I can smell that,” Winston said, feigning amazement. “And it smells like you nailed it.”

Reyna puffed up with pride. Cole shyly offered Winston a corner of his pancake. “It’s good,” he said softly.

Winston accepted the offering with an exaggerated nod of approval. “Delicious,” he declared, giving Cole a fist bump that made the boy’s shy smile blossom.

The morning unfolded in a haze of laughter and banter—a fleeting, ordinary magic that Axarii cherished. But as Winston launched into an animated story about his childhood mishaps, Axarii’s thoughts drifted. The fundraiser loomed ahead, a reminder of the world beyond her walls—a world where judgments often lingered beneath polite smiles.

She fingered the pendant at her neck, its smooth surface grounding her. It had seen her through heartbreak, sacrifice, and quiet triumphs. Whatever the day held, she reminded herself, she had built this life with her own hands. And she would protect it fiercely, no matter what.

By the time Winston left, promising to meet them at the fundraiser, the twins were happily building an elaborate blanket fort that stretched precariously close to the bookshelf. Axarii stood in the doorway, watching them with a mixture of amusement and tenderness.

Her phone buzzed on the counter, breaking the moment. A text from the school’s parent coordinator reminded her about raffle tickets. She sighed, setting it down.

“Okay, you two,” she called, clapping her hands. “Time to clean up. We’ve got a big day ahead.”

Reyna and Cole groaned but began dismantling their fort with theatrical reluctance. Axarii chuckled, opening her laptop to finalize her latest freelance project. The scent of lavender drifted toward her as she worked—a quiet reminder of how far she’d come and the life she’d built. For all its imperfections, it was hers.

And she wouldn’t let anything—past or present—take it away.