Promises and Pomegranates by Sav R. Miller

CHAPTER 30
“DIO MIO, you must’ve put on ten pounds since you’ve been gone.”
Mamá’s comment slices through the air of our living room, bouncing off
the white walls and matching furniture, embedding itself in my skull where
her criticism usually makes its home.
Now that the neighbors and childhood friends have filtered out for the
evening, having spent every second since my arrival gushing over how happy
they were to see me alive and to badger me about life as a captive, despite my
repeated and vehement reluctance toward the term.
For the most part, when the shine of my return wore off and they finished
asking about the island, everyone disappeared, as interested in my life as they
were before I ever left Boston.
It didn’t necessarily feel good seeing people I’d known for years become
visibly bored by the truth behind my disappearance, but at least Kal looks
less likely to commit mass murder now that the house is silent.