THE APARTMENT LOOKED EXACTLY how Diwa expected a monster's den to look. It was cramped, with patterned rugs on the floor, (to hide the scratches, most likely) and a dusty smell in the air that reminded the eight-year-old of her grandmother's old lint-covered coats. She wrinkled her nose.

With the amount of adoration in Papa's eyes when he talked about his new wife, Diwa would have thought they'd be living in a mansion.

But what did she expect anyway, from those Papa-stealing monsters?

Sighing, she gave one last longing glance at the front door and followed her father further inside. A rush of heat hit her, so thick she could feel it on her tongue. The humidity made her hair perk up from the ponytail.

"Aw, and here's Diwa!"

The child looked up, meeting eyes with her stepmom—though Diwa preferred the name stepmonster—who stuck beside her new husband like glue, dashing him fluttery looks and smiles every second.

"Hey," Diwa grumbled.

The stepmonster's smile was warm and burning at the same time. "Oh, it's so good to have you here!"

Diwa couldn't say the same. "Mhm, it's nice to see you...again," she replied, to which the stepmonster gave another blinding smile. They had only met once, at the wedding, but it was enough to conclude she preferred her with the veil on than without.

"Layla, dear, you up for a house tour?" Papa suggested, nudging her; a grin on his face.

She returned the smile. "You know it."

The stepmonster led them through the apartment, pointing out every heirloom and useless object. Her father clapped at everything his doting wife showed them.

"And here," Layla said, "Is the photo-wall."

There were dozens of photos crammed together on a small wall between the kitchen and living room.

"We have pictures from our wedding right here." Layla pointed to a bundle of images with a blur of flashing white dresses and equally flashing smiles. Pushed behind many pictures of the star couple, Diwa even saw a picture of herself.

"Ooh and look, here's baby Rose!"

Behind the dozens of wedding photos, was a picture of a chubby baby, with curly blonde hair and brown eyes. It was weird to see Rose with her hair unruly and out of place.

After Layla pointed out a few more photos, they moved on to the book collection. Diwa wasn't a big fan of chapter books and that was all the stepmonster seemed to have. Actually, Diwa wasn't a fan of books in the first place. Her father, on the other hand, was eager to see them all, read every title, listen to Layla explain the whole story of what the book was about and another story of how she managed to get hold of it.

Bor-ing!

Diwa half-listened to their chatter for what felt like an hour. She resorted to staring at the back of Layla's head in boredom, watching the swish-swishes of her straight blonde hair. Diwa wished her hair was that straight.

Finally, finally, they moved on from the books and photos, into the rest of the apartment. Diwa had to admit, despite being stuffy and dusty, at least her stepmom had the decency to clean up before they arrived. It made Diwa question whether the stepmonster was really a monster. She pushed the thought away.

They finally stopped at a rusted door, with a faded, crooked sign that read, 'Rose'.

Layla pushed the door open. "This is it. The girls' room. We'll have to add your name to the door as well."

Diwa was surprised by the amount of sincerity in the stepmonster's voice. She tried to ignore it; to convince herself it wasn't real. She wouldn't fall for it like she had last time. "It's...nice."

"And that's not even half of it." Layla smiled and led them inside. "We even got a new bunk bed for the two of you."

Diwa surveyed the room. "It doesn't look new."

The bunk bed sat squished in the corner, with scratches and peeled wood on every surface. She could make out faint initials etched on the ladder. Pillows adorned the top of the mattress, though they didn't help with brightening the rickety frame.

"I'll admit, it may come with some small scratches, but the pillows look nice, don't they? I hand-picked them from the thrift store."

Papa smiled adoringly and gave Layla a kiss. "Thanks, hun, they look wonderful."

The effortless interactions, the sly kisses, the compliments—the stepmonster sure had Papa bewitched.

"Would it be okay if I stayed here a while...to unpack all my things?" Diwa asked. Eight years of things don't just unpack themselves, she wanted to add.

"Of course, take all the time you need," Papa said. Even if he was madly in love with the monster, he still paid attention to his only daughter. For now, at least. How long would it be until Papa was so in love, he'd forget about her? "Should we get dinner started?"

"I was thinking of ordering something special for our first night together as a family," Layla said. "How's that sound?"

Papa smiled. "Sounds absolutely perfect. Diwa, what should we get for you?"

"Not hungry." Diwa dismissed them with a wave. "I think I'll unpack and just go to bed."

"Sure thing! Rose will be back from her friends soon," Layla told her. "Then you'll be able to meet her."

Diwa covered her grimace with a grin. She wasn't sure how she felt about meeting her new stepsister for the first time. Rose hadn't attended the wedding so, besides a few awkward phone calls, Diwa had never formally met her. Papa thought they'd make great friends, but Rose was a big kid and big kids were scary.

Papa nudged Diwa. "You sure you're not hungry? Not even for a special dessert?"

Well, now that Papa mentioned it, Diwa wouldn't mind a special dessert. "Uh, maybe I've still got some room for a small snack?"

Her father laughed. "You always do. We'll save some food for you, alright?"

Diwa nodded.

"Let me know if you need anything, Di. We'll be right outside."

"Okay, Papa."

He stared at her for a second. "You okay?"

"Awesome."

A pause: Layla had stepped outside. Crouching down, Papa looked Diwa in the eye. He lowered his voice. "You'd tell me, right, if anything was wrong? You're doing fine here, right?"

"Yes, Papa, I'm great!"

He gave her a look; he didn't believe her. "Give it some time, okay, Di. It may feel different now, but trust me, you'll end up liking it here. I know this is all new for you, but keep in mind it's new for Layla and Rose too. Don't be so hard on them." Papa kissed the top of her head. "I love you."

Diwa wanted to tell him she wasn't nervous, just scared. She wanted to tell him that it would be impossible to like this place. But all she did was hug him tight and whisper, "Love you too."

Papa smiled and squeezed her hand. "I'll be outside if you need anything."

"Goodnight, Diwa!" Layla called from outside.

Diwa couldn't find it in her to reply. With one last glance at her, Papa left the room. He patted Layla's shoulder, turning around to blow a quick kiss to Diwa and then he pulled the door closed. The last thing she saw was Layla leaning against her father's shoulder and the contentment in their eyes before the door closed with a soft click.

Diwa huffed and dragged her backpack to the bed. The bottom bunk had a few books sitting in a stack on the side—Rose must have claimed it already. With a sigh, she climbed up the ladder, the rungs creaking under her feet. She flopped down and stared at the popcorn ceiling, her eyes tracing the bumps and the dots. She stared and stared and stared at the ceiling until her mind wandered in circles and tears formed in her eyes.

"It sucks here," Diwa whispered, blinking away the tears. She didn't like it here; she didn't want to be here. In fact, she hated this place. It was weird moving into a place that was new to them but the same old for Layla and Rose. She and Papa were newcomers; it was different, it was scary. But her Papa loved being here. He loved Layla and her daughter and the dingy old apartment and their new family and even if Papa didn't outright say it, Diwa could tell. He couldn't see that these people were monsters, trying to steal him away from her.

These monsters were different from the ones that stole her mother, but they were monsters, all the same, weren't they? They would keep coming until they stole Papa away. Diwa didn't want to lose him either.

She sat up and zipped open her bag, pulling out a picture from her front pocket. It was the only piece of Mama that was still there with her.

The picture had been taken an eternity ago, when Diwa was just two or three and could still be held in her mother's arms. It showed Papa and Mama, arms wrapped around each other, twinkling smiles on their faces. At their feet, stood little Diwa, one hand wrapped around each of her parent's legs, with a grin on her face that revealed a few tiny front teeth. Diwa smiled and looked closer at her mother.

She looked just like Diwa, with curly brown hair and tan skin. Mama had a round face, dimpled cheeks and a smile that radiated warmth, which she could see even from the picture. She probably gave the cuddliest hugs...just like Papa. Diwa would have given anything to hug her; anything to see her again even though she barely knew her. Her Mama could be on the other side of the world with her new husband and completely forgotten about them, but that didn't change how she felt. 

Diwa buried her face in the stupid thrift-store-Layla-stinking pillow and clutched the picture tight in her hand. She wished they could go back to that time.

To a time long before any monsters had attacked their lives.