(1370  words)

Friday, July 4, 2025

By Friday, the apartment had settled into a strange routine.

It wasn't comfortable.

It wasn't normal.

But it was something they repeated every day because none of them knew what else to do.

Laundry moved constantly from one room to another.

Dirty dishes appeared and disappeared from the sink.

And Mrs. Parker kept showing up almost every afternoon with something warm in plastic containers or old pots wrapped in towels.

Soup.

Pasta.

Rice.

Meatballs.

She always said it was "too much food for one person," but Michael no longer believed her.

Each time she stayed a little longer, sitting near the kitchen table and speaking quietly with Mark while her eyes wandered around the apartment, noticing details that nobody else seemed to see.

"She's here more often than Mom ever was," Michael muttered one afternoon as he watched her through the half-open kitchen door.

Mark rubbed his forehead wearily.

"She's only trying to help."

"No," Michael replied quietly.

"She's trying to figure things out."

But this time, it wasn't Mrs. Parker standing outside the door.

The knock came just after noon.

It was softer than usual.

When Mark opened the door, a blonde woman was standing there, holding an umbrella and a small paper bag against her chest.

"Hello," she said politely.

"I'm looking for Alicia Bennett."

Michael recognized her immediately.

He had seen her once in one of the framed photographs hanging near the entrance of the school while he had been waiting for his mother after class.

It was Claire.

"I'm one of Alicia's colleagues," she explained quickly.

"We worked together."

Mark stepped aside uncertainly.

"Please, come in."

Claire walked inside slowly, looking around the apartment with quiet curiosity.

She didn't seem judgmental.

She looked thoughtful.

Almost confused.

The apartment clearly didn't match the picture she had created in her mind.

"I hope I'm not disturbing you," she said.

"I know school has finished and we're all on summer vacation now, but Alicia usually answers her messages."

"Even during the holidays."

Michael stayed near the hallway, watching her carefully.

"She's visiting family," he said calmly before Mark could answer.

Claire blinked.

"Family?"

Michael nodded once.

"She needed a little space."

Claire hesitated.

"I thought her parents had passed away."

"They did," Mark answered quickly.

"And she never mentioned having any brothers or sisters," Claire added quietly.

Before the silence became uncomfortable, Michael spoke again.

"Distant relatives."

Claire nodded, although she clearly wasn't convinced.

She sat down carefully near the kitchen table while Mark remained standing, looking tired and uncomfortable.

For a moment, nobody spoke.

Then Claire looked at Michael.

"You're her oldest son, aren't you?"

"Yes."

A gentle smile appeared on her face.

"You actually look more like her than your brother does."

Michael didn't respond.

Claire placed the paper bag on the table.

"I brought some pastries," she said softly.

"It felt strange not hearing anything from Alicia after school ended."

Again, Michael noticed the way she said it.

It wasn't sadness.

It was confusion.

As if Alicia's disappearance simply didn't fit the person Claire believed she knew.

"Did you work with my mom for a long time?" Michael asked.

Claire nodded.

"For several years."

Michael was quiet for a moment before asking another question.

"What was she like?"

Claire looked surprised.

Then she leaned back slightly and thought carefully before answering.

"She's very intelligent," she finally said.

"Much more intelligent than most people realize."

Michael listened without interrupting.

"She notices things very quickly."

"The students like her because she explains difficult ideas in a simple way."

"And she always seems prepared, almost as if she already knows what they're going to ask before they ask it."

Michael felt something shift inside him.

That sounded familiar.

Claire smiled again, more naturally this time.

"And she looks happy."

"Or at least she seems happy most of the time."

Mark frowned slightly.

Claire noticed but continued speaking.

"When Alicia walks into a room, people smile."

"Teachers."

"Students."

"Even parents."

"She talks to everyone."

"She laughs a lot."

"Honestly, sometimes she seems like the most energetic person in the whole building."

Michael remained silent.

Mark looked more surprised with every sentence.

At home, Alicia hardly laughed anymore.

"She always seems busy," Claire continued.

"But not tired in a bad way."

"More like..."

"...excited."

"As if she's always thinking about her next idea."

"What kind of ideas?" Michael asked.

Claire laughed softly.

"Big ideas."

Mark looked even more confused.

"She talks like someone who expects life to become something important," Claire explained.

"I don't mean anything dangerous."

"Just..."

"...something ambitious."

"As if she wants to build something bigger than an ordinary life."

Michael didn't move.

Claire continued speaking, almost smiling to herself.

"Sometimes she says things that sound impossible at first."

"But five minutes later, everyone agrees with her."

"She has that effect on people."

Michael lowered his eyes for a moment.

The two versions of his mother no longer fit together.

On one side, there was the quiet, tired woman who cooked, cleaned, paid the bills, and lowered her head whenever his father became difficult.

On the other side...

There was this Alicia.

The woman Claire was describing.

Intelligent.

Confident.

Brilliant.

Full of plans.

"She also has a way of making people feel important," Claire said more softly. "That's probably why her students trust her so easily. When she talks to someone, you feel like she really understands you."

For a brief moment, Michael almost laughed.

The woman Claire was describing felt completely different from the one who lived in this apartment.

Claire hesitated before speaking again.

"But sometimes..." She paused. "Sometimes I think something changes for just a second."

Michael looked up immediately.

"It's as if she suddenly becomes distant," Claire continued. "Maybe sad. It's hard to explain. But it only lasts a moment."

Michael listened carefully.

"Then, a few seconds later, she smiles again and acts completely normal."

Claire lowered her voice.

"It's almost as if she wants people to remember the happy version of her."

The words stayed in the room long after she finished speaking.

After another short silence, Claire sighed.

"Actually, this year she hardly worked at school."

Mark looked at her in surprise.

"What do you mean?"

"She only taught two days a week," Claire explained. "And she had a few private students."

Mark stared at her.

"Only two days?"

Claire nodded.

"That's why I always assumed she had another job."

"She always talked like someone who was constantly busy."

"Always going somewhere."

Michael felt everything slowly connecting in his mind once again.

The numbers.

The money.

Her schedule.

The hours she spent away from home.

None of it matched.

Claire looked uncertain for a moment, as if she wasn't sure whether she should continue.

"I never thought she was unhappy," she said quietly.

"It was almost the opposite."

Mark frowned.

"What do you mean?"

Claire smiled sadly.

"She always seemed like someone who was waiting for a new life to begin."

Silence filled the apartment.

Nobody spoke.

Finally, Claire stood up and picked up her umbrella.

"If Alicia contacts you," she said, "please tell her I'm worried."

Michael nodded once.

As Claire reached the front door, she stopped and looked back into the apartment.

"You know..."

She hesitated.

"I don't think she's the kind of person who stays in one place for very long."

Another short pause followed.

"I think most people only know the version of Alicia that she wants them to know."

Then she left.

The apartment felt heavier after the door closed behind her.

Mark slowly sat down on the couch.

For a long time, he stared at the floor before finally speaking.

"She only worked two days a week," he murmured, almost to himself.

Michael remained standing near the kitchen.

Neither of them spoke for several seconds.

Finally, Mark rubbed his face again.

He looked completely exhausted.

"We're almost out of money," he admitted quietly.

"And we still owe Mrs. Parker."

Michael looked at one of Mrs. Parker's food containers still sitting on the kitchen table.

"We're not borrowing anything else from her," he said calmly.

Mark looked up.

"Then what do we do?"

"You need to find a job," Michael answered simply.

"Anything."

"Part-time."

"It doesn't matter."

Mark suddenly looked much older than before.

"And you?"

Michael slowly folded his arms.

"I'll bring in money too."

Mark nodded.

He didn't ask how.

Outside, rain tapped softly against the windows while the apartment slowly settled back into silence.

After a long moment, Mark looked at Michael again.

His voice was quieter now.

"Did you know any of this about her?"

Michael thought about Claire's words.

About Alicia.

About the storage units.

About the plans hidden behind years of ordinary routines.

He knew Alicia had been living a double life.

He just didn't know which one had been real.

Slowly, he looked away.

"No," he said.

And for the first time in his life...

He wasn't sure anyone had ever truly known her.