Only My Mia Cara

"Mia cara, you left me— you left me here!" I screamed into the dark. My chest heaved, drenched in sweat, tangled in my blankets like a net I couldn't escape from.

The door burst open.

"Xinyi…" Mama's voice, soft and honeyed, filled the room. She was by my side before I could breathe again. "Ai ya, my baby… it's a nightmare again."She brushed the damp strands of hair from my forehead, kissing me gently. "Wǒ de bǎobèi," she whispered. My baby.

I nodded slowly, heart still racing like a storm trapped in my ribcage.

"Mom…" My voice cracked like porcelain. "Can we… go to the orphanage again?"

A pause. The ache in her chest was quiet, but I felt it in the silence between us.

"Again?" she said gently, like she already knew the answer. "You say that every year… every shēngrì, every birthday."

I swallowed hard, the lump in my throat rising like it always did when his name echoed in my head.

"Not today, Xinyi. Forget about that place, just for today." Her eyes glinted with warmth as she tucked the quilt tighter around me. "We'll go to Fùdàn to see your nǎinai. Just for a week, hǎo ma?"

I whispered, "For a week…" like I was tasting time, wondering if Dante even knew what weeks felt like anymore. If he even remembered me. If he was still alive.

She nodded, smiling. "Xingqi and Zixuan are already downstairs. It's your bāshíbā suì, your 18th birthday!"

She kissed my forehead again and left, her scent of jasmine and morning dew trailing behind her.

But I couldn't follow.

My body moved—I stood up, I washed my face, I changed into my new soft-blue dress. But my thoughts… my thoughts never left him.

Dante.

Where are you?

When I turned sixteen, I searched. I tried. I wrote letters. I called numbers. I cried to officials who looked at me like I was crazy.He wasn't there.Jake wasn't there either.No trace. No sign. Nothing.

But I know they're alive.

I feel them in every breath, every moment the wind shifts the curtains just right.They haunt me—no, they follow me. Because I never kept my promise.

I stepped downstairs.There was Dad in his beige cardigan, holding a book with half his reading glasses on. Zixuan, my elder brother, had one earbud in and was pretending to hang streamers while texting.And Xingqi—my Milly, but not quite the same Milly from the past—was hopping up and down, trying to place candles on a cake three times her size.

"Nǐ kàn, nǐ kàn!" Dad exclaimed cheerfully when he saw me. "There's my ài nǚ'ér! My lovely daughter!"

"Jiějiě!" Xingqi squealed, running into my arms.

"Sup, sissy," Zixuan muttered, flashing a peace sign while balancing a balloon on his head.

And then there was Mom, pouring warm chá into a ceramic teapot. "Your dad needs his lǜchá, of course," she said, smiling.

I smiled back.

But it felt… fragile.

Like if I blinked too long, it would shatter into the pieces of a memory I was too afraid to lose.

"It's your 18th birthday," Xingqi said sweetly, hugging my waist. "Are you happy, jiějiě?"

I nodded.

I should be.A big cake. A warm home. A family who adores me.

But the nightmare still clung to the corners of my mind.

Because my nightmare… it isn't just some passing shadow.

My nightmare has a name.

Dante.

And the truth is?

I'm terrible.

I left him.

I sat quietly at the dining table, nestled beside Baba, who leaned over with his warm scent of old spice and jasmine tea and pressed a soft kiss to my temple."My lovely nǚ'ér," he said, his voice a gentle rumble that always made me feel little again, "had a good night's sleep?"

I smiled faintly, nodding. I didn't want to ruin this morning with my truth — that I'd woken up drenched in cold sweat, my chest aching like someone had pulled my heart out of my ribs and forgotten to give it back. But I just smiled.

From across the table, Mama tsked, pouring Baba's tea and shaking her head with a sigh. "Āiyā, good night but terrible morning — she had a nightmare again, didn't she?"

I didn't answer. Not because I was ignoring her, but because I didn't want to lie, and the truth was too heavy to put into words.

"Xīngqī, be gentle with your sister," Mama added before my little sister could say anything careless.

Too late.

"She always has nightmares on her birthday," Xīngqī giggled, her spoon clinking against the porcelain bowl filled with the kind of food I never even dreamed of back at the orphanage. Meat that melted on your tongue. Warm broth. Real rice.

I didn't even glance at my plate. I sat there, blinking slowly, a part of me still stuck in the rooftop air of the old orphanage, beside a boy with bruised cheeks and soft hands who once promised me forever.

Dante... where are you now? Do you still remember that night? That promise? Me?

"Chī ba," Baba said gently, nudging my elbow as he scooped a spoonful of rice onto my plate. I nodded again, silently, picking up my chopsticks without protest.

Across the table, Māma narrowed her eyes at my older brother, Zǐxuān, who sat sprawled out like a tired college student, phone in hand, earbuds in. "Zǐxuān, how many times have I told you—no phones during meals."

He groaned dramatically, tugging one earbud out. "Māmā, I'm not a kid. I'm twenty-one."

Mama sipped her tea, calm as always. "So what? To a mother, her child is always a child, no matter if they're two or forty."

Her words wrapped around me like a soft blanket, and for a moment, the ache in my chest faded. I smiled faintly, glancing at her. "Mama is right, gēge," I said softly.

He rolled his eyes, mimicking my voice under his breath, and Baba laughed at us both.

I looked around the table — at my parents, at Xīngqī happily swinging her legs, at Zǐxuān pretending not to care but smiling anyway — and I felt the weight in my heart press down just a little heavier.

I didn't want to lose this family, not this one too.But I also couldn't stop missing the boy I left behind.The boy who brushed my hair on a cold metal bed and whispered promises into my ear when the world was too cruel.The boy whose name I still whispered to the stars.

Birthday:

It was 8:30 p.m. when Xīngqī called me downstairs, her tiny hands clutching mine as she tugged me to the top of the staircase."Wait!" she said dramatically, reaching behind her back and pulling out a soft blindfold with stars on it.

I knew exactly what was coming, but I let her tie it around my eyes anyway, pretending to be surprised. Her giggles made my heart squeeze. "No peeking, jiějie! Promise?"

"Promise," I whispered, letting her guide me down the stairs step by careful step.

And then—"Zhù nǐ shēngrì kuàilè!""Happy birthday!"

The lights came on in a sudden warm burst, and I blinked as Xīngqī pulled the blindfold off. In front of me stood my whole world—Bàba, Māmā, Zǐxuān, and Xīngqī, all with the brightest smiles, confetti in their hair and cake in the center of the table.

Māmā's voice rang out as she sang with them, her voice slightly off-tune but full of love."Wǒ qīn'ài de nǚ'ér, 18 suì shēngrì kuàilè," she added proudly, her eyes glistening as she gazed at me like I was still the baby she once held against her heart.

I smiled—brightly on the outside. But inside… inside, something cracked.

Because in that moment, as the candles flickered and the room filled with laughter, I was suddenly back in that rooftop under the stars, holding a rusted steel bucket like a birthday cake, sitting beside the boy who taught me what safety felt like even in the cruelest place.

Mashed potatoes and a half-broken candle... it was still the best birthday I ever had.

A sudden wave of emotion surged inside me. My throat tightened. My eyes burned.Dante... if only you knew I never forgot.

"Are you okay, sissy?" Zǐxuān's voice broke through my daze. I blinked fast, the images fading into the candlelight.

"Oh—yes. Nothing," I said quickly.

He handed me the knife and everyone leaned in closer. I closed my eyes.

Please... God... please help me find him again. Let me see him just once. And please... keep my family together like this, forever.

I blew out the candles, and the room erupted in cheer. Cake was cut, laughter bubbled like soft music, and for a while, I tried to live in that moment—just for tonight.

I gave the first slice to Bàba, who smiled as he took it like it was made of gold. Then to Māmā, who kissed my hand after taking hers. Xīngqī bounced with excitement, frosting already on her nose before I could even pass her a piece.And Zǐxuān? He just grabbed one for himself and stuffed it in his mouth like a bear.

"Gēge!" I scolded, but we all laughed.

Then came the gifts.

Then came the gifts.

Mama handed me a soft, hand-sewn pouch with a note inside that read, "I love you, Xinyi. I will always be happy if you are happy." My eyes welled up again.

Baba gave me a leather-bound journal—simple, classic, the kind with crisp, untouched pages. "For your thoughts, your dreams," he said, "and for the things you don't want to forget."

I smiled. Even though one boy's name was already written all over my heart.

Next was Xīngqī, who had wrapped her gift in ten layers of glitter paper and ribbons. I still couldn't figure out what it was, but she squealed when I smiled at her. "It's from me and all my love!"

Finally, Zǐxuān stood up with a dramatic sigh, reached into his pocket, and placed a single candy in my hand.

"I'm broke, sissy," he said, his voice full of mock guilt and real affection. "But that's not just a candy. It's a candy from the heart."

I laughed—genuinely, this time. Even Mama laughed at that.

And for a moment... just a breath in time... I allowed myself to feel happy.

Even if half of my heart was still somewhere else.

Even if part of me would always be waiting on that rooftop, under the stars, with mashed potatoes and a promise I'd never forget.