"Mom?"

What in the seven worlds?

My lips part and air leaves in a somewhat confused chuckle. I haven't seen my mom since I was six or so, but the resemblance to my aunt Jenny, her sister, is otherwise uncannily unexplainable.

The woman nods with a faint smile.

She looks older and taller than I remember aunt Jenny to be. She also has rougher features and seems to have a way better physical condition, which contrasts sharply to the last memories I have of my aunt; sick, laying in a hospital bed. It's like aunt Jenny didn't let the cancer defeat her after all, but instead returned all badass in the sequel for vengeance.

A warm teardrop rolls over my cheek. I can't believe this is happening. I never thought I would actually see her again. "Mom..." More tears impose as the impact of realisation becomes heavier.

She hesitantly comes closer in order to embrace me. I let her.

The combination of emotions that overflow me are of the kind I never felt before. The pain of abandonment I felt as a child, first caused by my mother, than by the tragic parting of my aunt, whom loved me as a mother, resurfaces from a place I thought had been sealed off and put away somewhere deep inside. The relief and gratitude to get one of them back is of indescribable proportions.

My arms around her tighten as she pats my hair. "My little girl... you're so big now." I laugh joyfully.

I'm roughly the same height as her. I have so many questions. "Mom, what are you doing here?" We let go of each other. Her eyes are the same as mine, I notice. She wipes off her wet cheek with the back of her hand. Her hands look like mine, too. Only, they seem to have gone through a tougher life.

"Elly, I know I have a lot of explaining to do, and I will explain." She has taken the gun from me, put the safety back on, and laid it on the counter. She's holding both my hands tightly. "The men I was with," she nonchalantly nods next to the lifeless human laying next to her on the floor, "they aren't the only ones that know where you're hiding. More will follow soon. We need to get you out of here."

"How did you find this location?" I almost forgot Frank is also present. He walks up to us and halts right behind me. I can almost smell the scepticism on him.

My mom goes from lovely bake sale-occupied mother to absolute gangster from zero to one hundred in terms of glances directed at Frank. They clearly don't trust each other. I hope that's only temporary.

"Aren't you a little young to be a bodyguard, pretty boy?"

"Aren't you a little late, mom?" Frank growls back.

Owch.

I want to come between them and say something, but I don't know what. He has a point after all. She left me when I was little, practically disappeared from the surface of the earth. Now she suddenly returns under very dubious circumstances, asking for my trust.

I take Frank's hand. I know it would be the safest, and probably the most logical, decision to mistrust her, but... I just got my mom back. Both seem to pick up on my discordance, and cease their quarrel.

Frank turns around to check the pulse of the motionless individual at the entrance of the bedroom. My mom does the same to the man closest to us.

"This one's still alive."

My mother doesn't hesitate and walks towards the man Frank is with. As she points her gun, Frank grips her arm. "What are you doing?" He whispers threateningly.

"Believe me, he won't be missed." My mother answers cold.

"That's not a valid reason to murder him."

My mom and Frank stare deadly in each other's eyes. What she whispers next is so quiet, I can barely understand it. "He will bleed to death anyway."

Frank looks down at the man. From what I can see, his shirt is glistening with blood. Frank bites down on his jaw and looks away. I do the same, and close my eyes. Even though I knew what was coming, the overwhelming sound sends my shoulders shrugging and shivers sliding down my spine. I don't look at the man again.

What did my mother went through to be able to kill someone so easily?

I remember the man who entered through the front door at the same time she did, whom she also killed. My eyes unwillingly jump to the sight of his motionless body. His eyes are open and fixed at a point somewhere on the ceiling. Suddenly a feeling of intolerable disgust overwhelms me and I jump outside, over the man's body.

The little substance I had left in my stomach emerges up, and I throw up at the bushes near the house. I hate throwing up.

Afterwards, my body is shaking, while tears fill my eyes. I go sit down a bit further on the grass, facing away from the house. I welcome the calming cold.

Frank walks up to me with a bottle of water. I rinse out my mouth a few times and I then take a sip. He crouches down next to me.

"What should we do now?" I ask him, staring at nothing in particular.

Frank follows my gaze. "How sure are you that she's your mother? I know she's been gone for awhile. Take in account your mind can play tricks on you all the time."

I take a moment, and nod. "She's my mother." I stare down at the grass. I'm sure Frank still has his doubts. Not only concerning the matter of our alleged familial bonds, but more pressingly, the issue of her trustworthiness. He keeps it to himself. "Okay."

Frank brings a jacket from inside the house and drapes it over my shoulders. He crouches down again and slides his hands over my arms in an effort to warm me up. He brings his mouth closer to my ear, as if he doesn't want anybody else to hear what he has to say. "I don't trust her, but she seems to have taken an effort in finding you. She has to have some kind of valuable information. How else did she find us?" Frank falls quiet.

"You're saying we should go with her?"

I take Frank's silence as an affirmation. He gets up and reaches out a hand. I take it and he effortlessly hoists me on my feet. Frank intensely captures my eyes. "We should both pay attention."

I agree.

At that moment, my mom walks out of the house. She throws a bag into Frank's direction. He catches it with one hand.

"Let's hit the road."