THE SMELL OF THE WAFFLES WAS SO THICK, Diwa tasted it on her tongue. She almost felt the sugar, grainy and sweet. Diwa swallowed. Her stomach squirmed at the thought of eating the sickly-sweet food for breakfast.

"Goodmorning, Di." Papa planted a kiss on her head. "Slept well?"

Diwa suppressed a yawn. "Slept great."

Papa raised a brow.

"Okay, fine," she crossed her arms. "Maybe I didn't sleep all that great but really, I'm fine. There was just this weird sound I kept hearing—"

"NERO!" There was a shout from behind them. "There you are, my sweet little furball—" There was a loud smooching noise— "Where've you been?"

Layla appeared by the kitchen door, flowered apron still tied around her waist. A furry black ball was in her arms. It meowed softly.

"Diwa, Nic, meet Nero. He's our little cat." Layla smiled, running her hand through Nero's fur. "Got him at a pet-shop for Rose after the," A pause, "divorce."

There was an awkward silence.

"Wanna hold him?"

Diwa absolutely did not want to hold the yowling cat that had kept her up the entire night, but he did look adorable, with ink-black fur and round twinkling eyes.

She shrugged her shoulders, "Sure."

Layla gently put Nero into her arms. Diwa felt fur tickling her bare arms, soft, so soft. She cradled Nero, staring into his eyes. Her limbs softened at his touch until she was sure she'd melt. "Aww, he's so—"

She felt a prick. Sharp nails bit into her skin. Diwa cried out.

The cat dropped from her arms.

"Nero! You don't bite your friends! Bad cat!" Layla shouted after the Nero, who stalked off, unfazed. His head was held high, tail swishing in the air as he disappeared around the corner.

Diwa sighed, clutching her arm. The scratch burned her wrist, but the betrayal scratched at her heart. Was everything in this place a monster?

After Layla apologized about a hundred times, Papa bandaged Diwa's arm and then they sat down to eat the now-cold, still too-sweet-smelling waffles. Diwa's stomach clenched.

Something small scratched at her heart. Diwa missed their breakfasts back at home. With the warm sun swamping in through the open window, the morning breeze so fresh she could have that for breakfast. There'd be steaming tea for Papa, orange juice for Diwa, and a small plate of sandwiches shared between them. Her heart squeezed as she pictured it. And then she took a bite of the waffle, fake-tasting sugar exploding on her tongue. She swallowed hard.

Diwa managed to stuff down half of the waffle before there was a loud screech behind her.

"Morning."

Diwa's heart flip-flopped in her chest. It was Rose. With short, blonde bangs touching her tired eyes and despite having probably just woken up, her hair looked straight as ever. Even sitting down, she was almost as tall as her mother.

Diwa had never seen Rose before, never in person. Just in photos and phone calls and through her Papa's praise but she had never seen Rose in real life. And now, her new step-sister was sitting just across the table from her, looking so...normal.

"Hey, Rosie." Layla slid a plate of pancakes towards her daughter. She lowered her voice, "Look who's here!"

"I know, Mom. I have eyes." Rose grabbed a forkful of the waffles and swallowed, her mouth instantly scrunched up. She coughed. "I thought we agreed on putting less sugar in the waffles. Not more."

Layla looked unimpressed. She gave Rose a look that reminded Diwa of her grandmother's stern do-the-chores-right- now-young-lady kind of glances.

"Fine, fine, look, I'm saying hello." Rose pushed her chair back and reached her hand out towards Papa. "Great to finally meet you, Nic," she gave Papa a polite smile. "And you too, Diwa," she sat down, giving Diwa a mere nod.

Diwa crossed her arms. Here she was thinking, maybe, just maybe, they could bond over their hatred of over-sugared waffles, but apparently not. Obviously, Rose was only interested in befriending Papa. She was a monster, Diwa had to remind herself, she had let herself forget. Again.

Monsters were monsters and thinking Rose and Layla would be anything else was so...so like her. She needed to stop thinking the monsters would just stop becoming monsters.

The rest of breakfast was spent with Layla and Papa engaging in conversation--with an occasional word from Rose--while Diwa fumed silently.

Stomach churning from the waffles, she brought her plate into the kitchen and heard voices. She stopped.

"Rose." There was the slam of a cabinet door. "What you did at breakfast was not appreciated."

Rose groaned. "C'mon, Mom, will you let it go. I said hi to them, alright? You heard me."

"That's not what I meant. Your attitude has been rude today, and not just that---you've barely talked to Nic or Diwa at all, they're our new family."

"Well, Nicholas was busy talking with you." Diwa heard a plate being dropped into the sink. "And Diwa was talking less than me, you didn't say anything about that."

A sigh. "Rose, come on."

"What? She's your new daughter too, isn't she? Why don't you give her a lecture instead."

"Rose!"

"Why should I talk to them, Mom, when they're going to end up leaving anyway?"

"Nic's not like that, he won't leave."

"Oh, come on, Mom. That's what you said about the last one."

"Well," Layla breathed out, "If you won't talk to Nic, at least talk to Diwa."

Rose grumbled. "Why should I talk to her, she barely looked like she wanted to talk to me!"

"She's a sweet girl, you should at least try!"

"Sweet, sure. All I saw was spoiled."

Diwa's stomach twisted, and the scratch in her heart grew sharper. She gripped her plate hard. That was it, she was leaving. She'd had enough of this place. They had to leave. They had to, they had to, they had to. Swallowing hard, she left the plate back in the dining room and ran.

"Papa!" she called. "Papa, can I talk to you?"

"In here!"

Diwa followed her father's voice to the end of the hall, towards Papa and Layla's room. She stormed in.

Inside, she saw Papa sitting on the floor, his suitcase open in front of him.

"Papa, what are you doing?"

Her father folded a shirt and placed it into the drawer. "Unpacking," he said. "Believe it or not, Layla's already emptied out half the dresser for me," Papa chuckled. "I don't know how many clothes she thought I'd have."

Diwa walked to the suitcase and pulled the zip close. "Papa, you can't unpack! We can't stay here."

"Diwa, remember what I told you, we're all just adjusting right now. You'll get used to living here."

"No, no I won't! I'll never get used to it and plus, Rose already said she doesn't like me and Nero scratched me so he clearly doesn't like me, but that doesn't matter. I don't like them either. And we have to leave, please Papa?"

Papa glanced around the room. His eyes lingered at the wedding photo on the nightstand. "Just give it a chance here, Di. I promise, you'll like it."

"But I don't like it, Papa. I don't. And they don't like me here. And, and, can we just go back home, please, Papa? Why don't you want to leave?"

Papa leaned against the dresser. He looked up. "It's not that easy, Di. We're married. You agreed with this marriage. I thought you liked Layla."

"Yeah well, that was before I found out she was a monster," Diwa retorted.

"Monster? Diwa, she's not a monster."

"Yes she is, she's exactly, exactly like Paul. And she's gonna take you away, just like she took Mama and then I'll have to go back to living with grandma and this time without you." Diwa sniffed.

Papa sat her down and pulled her into a hug. "Is that what this is about? Paul and your mother? I won't leave you, Di. You know that."

"I know, Papa," she leaned on his shoulder. "I know you might not leave, but Layla might take you."

"Layla's not like that. She's amazing and kind and--"

Diwa swallowed. Scratch-scratch, went her heart. "You...you don't love her, right?"

"I wouldn't have married her if I didn't."

"But she's bewitching you! It's not real, you don't actually love her."

Papa took her hand in his. "Di, she's not bewitching me. I do love her, same as I love you."

Diwa pulled her hand back, eyes watering. "No, no, no you don't, Papa. That's what Mama said about Paul and she left. She said she loved me, didn't she? And if she loved me then why did she leave? It's because Paul was a monster and so is Layla."

"Honey, Layla is not a monster and neither is Paul."

"But you said it yourself, I remember. You said Paul was a monster and he took Mama away. And this time I'm saying Layla is a monster, and I know she'll take you away. I know it just like you knew with Paul. Why don't you want to leave?"

Papa sighed. "It's because I love her, Di, and I love you. This is what's best for you."

"No, it's not! Stop saying that." Diwa stood up, breathing hard. "I want to leave, Papa. I'll even go live with Grandma, I just want to leave."

"Diwa, you're not leaving, I'm sorry."

The scratch in her heart grew deeper, she felt it in her chest, in her lungs, sharper than Nero's claw-marks on her wrist. Diwa clenched her fists at Papa's words.

In her heart, scratches turned into monster scratches.

"Sweetheart, c'mon, just give it--"

"No!" Diwa stepped back. Monster claws scratched and re-opened the sealed wounds in her heart. All Diwa felt was pain. Teary-eyed, she ran from the room, slamming the door behind her.