Chapter - 24

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Natasha's POV:

"Mom! I said I was fine, so stop worrying ab....." Her eyes widen at the realization of what she had just called me.

How did she......?

Walking towards her, I grabbed both her shoulders and make her look at me right in the eye.

"What did you just say?" I asked her, with seriousness.

Looking at the ceiling, she pursed her lips. Then her eyes met mine. "I don't know what you are talking about." She says, her voice turning cold.

Why did she become friendly and distant with me at the same time? I know she's been through a lot but that doesn't mean that she should be this....closed up.

My inner thought laughs. "Look who is talking." It says.

Okay, I get it. Like mother like daughter.

A knock on the door interrupt us. "I'll open it." Clara says before I could even protest in order to escape my question.

This little girl is hiding something. And I am going to find out soon enough.

Clara's POV:

Oh my God! That was fucking close.

Oops! Dad would probably freak if he knows that I cussed.

I opened the door to find my father smiling at me. I sheepishly smiled back at him.

Oh! How I miss my Dad!

Mom and Dad would be very worried right now. I bet ten dollars that Mom would be crying right now. I really want to see her crying her eyes out. It would be very funny to see her that way.

Focus, Clara. You have to get home to your parents. But, how would I? My so called mother ruined all my plan.

Urgh! Why did Mom have to be so.......stupid(Sorry Dad) ?If she just let me be there with uncle Tony, I can some get help from him about how to find Dr.Strange.

"Clara, dinner is ready!" He cheers, still wearing that smile.

Dad. I am your cupcake. You always call me cupcake. This is why I didn't want to be with you. You always make me sad.

I miss our home.

I don't know why but tears start to form in my eyes.

Just like Mom always say,"Damn these so called feelings."

In order to hide my tears, I look at the floor. "Uh, I'll head downstairs." I say in a low tone, trying to hide my shaky voice.

He didn't comment on it, so I head downstairs as fast as I can.

Like always, my dad's cooking smells great. Yep, that's my dad we are talking about.

Hurrily, I sat on one of the chairs. But I decide to wait till both of them come downstairs.

Then, I hear a knock on the door. They didn't seem to come down yet, so why not open it myself?

Mom always told me not to open the door to a stranger. So, standing on a chair, I take a little peek on the hole.

Oh, Dad didn't mention anything about Aunt Sharon coming over.

Whoa! She looks very young and different from what I can remember.

It wasn't any stranger or bad guys. I mean, it was aunt Sharon. So, I just open the door for the poor lady.

Her eyes widen upon seeing me. She seems surprised. "Uh, hi. Is.....uh, Steve here?" She asks, looking inside the house.

Nodding my head, I invite her in but I decide to keep quiet since I can't risk 'blowing my cover', as my Mom would call it.

Then, I hear faint footsteps, which by the sound of it was indeed my mom's. I know it because it was probably the sound that she made when she is trying to sneak up on me or my Dad.

I don't really know how I can hear these little sounds or why my knowledge is ahead of other kids. My parents said that it was because I was 'special'.

But I don't think that's the case. I think that it is because of uncle Tony. He taught me many tricks, maths, physics and all.

He even built an Iron Man suit for me. Or we can call it 'Iron Girl' in my case. But that is a secret even mom and dad didn't know.

I can't wait to go home. I miss uncle Tony. Oh, and auntie Pep too. I even miss Happy.

Suddenly, mom jumps out of nowhere and points a gun right at aunt Sharon's forehead.

Wow! My mom is so pro!

Aunt Sharon's eyes widen at what just happened. She is nothing compared to my mother. In everything.

"Nat! You scared me there." She laughs nervously at my mom.

Putting the gun down, my mom put in on her back. Brushing some curls that falls on her face away professionally, she flashes her a faint smile.

No wonder my dad falls for her. Uncle Tony was right, my mom is kinda hot.

But I'll never tell her that.

"Sorry. Old habits die hard." Mom shrugs lightly, not even acting like she feels bad like she just said.

She, then, looks at me and pulls me to her so that I was hiding from aunt Sharon.

Typical mom. Old habits really die hard, it seems.

Before anyone of us even speak another word, dad rush down the stairs.

"Nat, why did you just run down without saying anything? You make me wor......" He stops right on his track, once he notices aunt Sharon.

He seems a bit surprised. "Sharon? What brings you here?" He asks, standing beside my mom.

Looking behind my mom, he flashes me a smile and pats my head lightly. "Were you scared, Clara?" He asks me kindly.

I want to answer him with,"The hell I am. Why would I be fucking scared?" But I decided against it since I don't want to get any scoldings about my language and all. So, I give him a slight nod to which he kindly replied with the same smile.

Shifting his attention towards her, he gives her an unfriendly look. I don't really know how to describe it since I am not an adult yet, but that kind of look would come from someone like my mom and not my dad.

She nervously laughs, folding her arms in her chest."Uh, Sam told me your whereabouts. I feel like I should pay you a visit."

My mom raised her eyebrows. "In the middle of the night?" She interferes. And by the looks on her face, my mom is not at all happy upon seeing aunt Sharon.

I really don't understand why mom is being cold to aunt Sharon. I mean, come to think of it, her eyes looked a little worn out and there are some tear stains visible on her face.

She should welcome her. This is not even her home yet and she should not be rude to our guest.

"It's only ten past nine, Natasha." Aunt Sharon snaps back, looking at my mom challengingly.

Mom tenses up and I could see her clenching her jaw, trying to hold herself back from doing anything to aunt Sharon.

Ooh! I wouldn't do that if I were you, aunt Sharon.

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